We'll drive the backroads of Santa Barbara
You sit shotgun, till we find some water
Spread the last of you on the ocean floor
While I wait here on the shore
I imagine at you, at 35
Standing in my place, knowing inside
The next time you come back, to this town
It'd be ashes, spirit and sound
Left all of you in the sand
Back home with empty hands
Few puffs later and I'm gone
Back to those roads off highway 1
I remember you, at 51
Takin a drag, under the sun
Knowing that it might, take off a few years
But the buzz was worth all the fear