I know we killed yer grandpa
By poisoning his lungs
We used John Wayne to sell him
On smoke, when he was young
I know that we addicted him
To sucking on our smokes
So we're trying to make friends again
By making clever jokes

cho: Come back to B and Double-Yew
We're wanting to be friends
Please don't get mad because yer folks
Have met untimely ends
At least their lives were happy
With satisfying sins
Responding to addictions
That we helped to begin!

I know we took yer Gramma too,
When she was twenty-two
We pitched her Lucky Strikes and Kents
For when her work was through
So rich, so firm, so fully packed
We made it sound so gay!
But emphysema settled in
And Gramma went away

Cho.



Somehow I don't think this is what they're looking for...