Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Summertime Squeeze

Sing and dance me a prayer,
The old kind,
The Indian kind.
Just sing long enough and
Loud enough to stamp my mind
With the sound of you.

I know this will all end
Way before I am ready to,
And I'm not done memorizing your aspects.

You are never going to be my type,
But I'm gonna have my dreams anyway.
Even though he is so out of my league.

As long as you
Keep bringing me some salmon,
Things between us
Will remain a
Level above decent.

You know,
The level of comfort.

Between friends.
That kind of thing.

It is
Whatever the hell
It is.

June 27, 2005

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Summertime Squeeze

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