You hid behind a fence the day we went to the graveyard.
You giggled seeing me confused, turning around,
then you showed and scared me to death before we embraced and kissed like it was our first time.
I brought my little radio, and I do remember
singing to those happy songs, thinking that
maybe someone would raise from his grave, grab a beer, and join our little party.
All along the lonely road we would stop and we made love.
Foggy morning on the grass, naked bodies, drunken minds.
Burgers never tasted so good later on that evening,
you were shining, you were free, I ate too much.
There was only you and me, and the waitress of that sixties style restaurant.
You didn't want me into your place, cause your father loathed me.
So we kissed goodbye and you went away,
smiling, carrying a couple records that I bought you in that store on clearance sale.
All along the lonely road we would stop and we made love.
Foggy morning on the grass, naked bodies, drunken minds.