Met her at the high school dancenThere's something in her lovely eyesnAnd there's nothing in this metropolisnbut the sound of stolen banjosnnShe's a good cigarettenShe's a good cigarettenGrandpa said she was just another pool hall hussynSun'll come out tomorrownnShe's a good cigarettenThe kind that makes you forgetnPoor, poor, poor, poor grandpanNo one noticed himnlying in the La-Z BoynDeadnnThat's menConductor of stilted conversationsnThe universitynSome kind of scent of perspiration