Killing Me

Bobby did a line from the back of his hand
And he pushed the pedal down
I was in the back with a bag of chips
Wondering who was still around

Bobby hit the lock, he made damn sure
I couldn't get to the door
Child-proof, Red Roof, rear-view mirror
I passed out on the floor

I'm in the back
In a burlap sack
Near the county line
I wasn't cursed
Like Patty Hearst
Lord, do your worst

You're killing me