Gimme Shelter at the Atlantic Drive-In
On the bench front seat frustrating making-out
That would not lead to the conclusion I could barely imagine
Though imagine I did plenty
As I watched while frenching Tina fondle the microphone
The reckless boulevard on a Saturday night

A family car shaped like a penny loafer
And my mother feared my driving toward the beaches
Where she expected drunken sailors to cause mishaps
Or maybe I was successful though I doubt it in concealing
That Ripple was available at 7-11 and grass here and there
And sex as soon as I received an invitation