Hey.. Well you work and you slave and you spend all day in your thankless job.. Then you jump in your Ford.. Door to Door.. With a hombound mob.. Then you pull in the drive and you hit the chair..
She hit the door 6: 55. Sack full of groceries, split down the sides. Can goods scattered all the way to the curb. The look on her face saying, don't say a word.
We will fly, way up high, where the cold wind blows. Or in the sun, laughin' havin' fun, with all the people that she knows. And if the situation, should keep us separated, you know the world won't fall apart.