YDP09: coping with sumner

we rode the fictional plane from london
waylaid by the fratellis and
arrested by the police
burning naked under the giant sun
first down and ninety to go

torpedo tits and pretzel stench
behind glass
and only the drummer refused to fight

five dollar snapples and eight dollar beers
and i won't even quote the hand jobs
god bless 'em at least i got carded