[ Featuring The Wayward Aces ]
Well my head made out of concrete
My pillow out of glue
This winding sheet is like a rope
My arms refuse to move
My outlook for today sure ain't likely to improve
Cause it's summertime, summertime but I got the blues
Well my head is beating like a drum
I can't see fit to move
My throat on fire, eyesi they itch,
Cant get in the groove
To this world I declare; I aint no good to you
Well it's summertime, summertime but I got the blues
Well listen oh lord, I got a bone to pick with you
Cause the last thing that I needed was what you put me through
Continue this state of affairs and our relationship is through
Cause it's summertime, summertime but I got the blues
Well my head made out of concrete
My pillow out of glue
This winding sheet is like a rope
My arms refuse to move
My outlook for today includes no chance to improve
Cause it's summertime, summertime and I got the blues
Cause it's summertime, summertime and I got the blues
Cause it's summertime, summertime and I got the blues
