It's summer
The hair's grown in
On my upper thigh
Just like so much corn
In late July
But is it summer
I'm shaking and my feet are bitter cold

I need some fries to go with that shake
I need to grease back my hair
Or let it whip in my face
Let it whip my face

I love you
Baby, I love you
I love you
Baby, I love you

We'll stock up on canned goods
And move to the woods
We'll find a piece of land
And quit this fucking band

I love you
Baby, I love you
I love you
Baby, I love you