well you could always count on your friends to get you high that's right and you could always count on the 'rents to get you by you could fly and now they make you piss into a plastic cup and give it up the cup will probably be here long after we're gone what's wrong they'll probably dig it up a thousand years from now and how they'll probably wonder what the hell we used it for and more this must be the cup the king held every night as he cried well maybe you should go out and write your own damn song and move on