it's summer the hairs 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 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
