Screwing Yer Courage

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