i’m
lovin’ this, but i hope we don’t last the summer
‘cause i can’t forget the chill i got last December
so i put on my mitts, and dig my trench--hunker down ‘til the snow hits
it don’t make much sense, there’s so much more to discover
but there always is: could we be mean to each other?
it gets so complex, yet we forge ahead without knowing what’s at risk
you ask “why?”
“well what is the difference?”
“d'you need something you can measure?”
“can’t we try?”
“or do you need an audience?”
“well where’s your sense of adventure?”
the wind it whips
it splits our lips
i feel like I’m gonna quit
now don’t be upset, it only grows here from may to october
way up north like this, there‘s no time for the ground to recover
so we all forget, we couldn’t live like this if we had to be honest
you ask “why?”
“well what is the difference?”
“do you need something you can measure?”
“can’t we try?”
“or do you need an audience?”
“well where’s your sense of adventure?”
“well you know what?…"
you remind me of that time
when I got drunk and walked all through the night
i opened wide
i slept outside, they said I coulda died …
but all I know is when I woke up, I felt so alive
i always dreamt that i’d live way south of the border
the months come and went without any leaves changing colour
we didn’t have to forget
we could live like kids
we'd live for the summer
we'd live for the summer
i live for the summer
i live for the summer
[© 2003 rob szabo. all rights reserved.]