Doobie In My Pocket

Doobie (x4)

I just remembered there's a doobie in my pocket
In my shirt in my suitcase
As I'm standing in line to check into my flight

And I'm trying to decide
If I should get out of line
But the line is really long and I start thinking about this song

And about the hippie
At the festival that gave me the doobie
That is in my pocket in my shirt that's in my suitcase

That I'm planning on checking to my final destination
Which is another festival with hippies and more doobies

So I, don't really need the one that is in
The pocket of my shirt in my suitcase
And I wonder if they'll find it

And I wonder what they'll do
Depending on their mood
They could put it in their pocket of their TSA shirt

Or maybe they're disgruntled
And just spark it where they stand
Or maybe they will give it to their friend Steve the cop
Who will put it in his pocket
And give it to the rasta
Who works at the Starbucks at gate 39

In hoping of continuing of receiving
His free triple tall Americana shots on top

That he desperately needs that extra caffeine
So that he can walk his miles and miles of luggage
With his female German shepherd
That he named Eva Braun
For the David Lindley song
Or at least that song that Lindley does

I'm, not really sure
If David Lindley wrote it
But one thing is true
Steve the cop he likes it

Or maybe he will simply throw that doobie in the trash
To avoid all the paperwork complete pain in the ass

And this is what is going through my brain
As I exit the plane
And walk to baggage claim
And pray for a key change

But the suitcase never came
And I start to go insane
As I pace around with visions of Guantanamo Bay

No need to drool, man
Everything is cool
They found my suitcase on the way to Istanbul

And they got it just in time
Put it on the next flight
Everything's ok I should be seeing it the next day

But once again it never came and once again I go insane
Because it's time to go, it's like an hour to the show

Without any traffic
That I did not leave in time for
Now I've got road rage, 'cause it's my turn on the stage

I cannot deny the sharp pain behind my eye
But I have to stop and smile because I suddenly realize

That I'm wearing the shirt with the doobie in my pocket
It was never in my suitcase I was wearing it the whole time