Seventeen , Dixie Cups and Boone's Farm Apple Wine

Taste the sweets of sweltering sun
Setting beyond the dreams undone
To be bound on a quest out west
Highway 82 to Boone's Farm best
To young to vote or drink
Not so young to die
In Nam they think
So in a 63 Impala
Raked and railed
We hit the road
And crashed the gates of Hell

Like a breath of autumn air
We crossed the state line
With little flare
We bore down on the nearest noun
The city limits
Of Columbus town
Tweny-five for a dozen case
Boone's farm at it's very best
We played it cool until out of sight
Then hit the pedal
Watching out for blue lights

We made it back before midnight
Twist off caps and empty bottles
We tossed to the shoulder right
From dorm windows we began to shout
"No Hall sucks like Patty Hall sucks"
And with a couple of shotgun blasts
We passed out fast
Oh , the fools that make men rash