You Make The Sun Fry

Ever since a modern man

Made himself an iron hand

I was trapped inside again

Trying to get out

Oh won't you take me to the hill?

Put me in your Coupe de Ville

Tell me that you love me still

We could get out of here

Oh, life is a story

Won't you be my story, girl?

Your eyes are blue skies

We could eat the tasty pieces

Of the peaches on the beaches

Tell me what would be such fun

Sitting in the garden sun

And you could go and meet my mom

We could sit there all day long

Tell me what would be so wrong

Oh so wrong with that?

Oh, life is a story

Won't you be my story, girl?

Your eyes are gold skies

That shows them the sunrise

And you saw nothing

You made me so happy!

Oh, life is a story

Won't you be my story, girl?

Your eyes are bloodshot