Plastic Cup - Low

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