. . . Go out and find a girl;
Come-on come-on and dance all night,
Despite the heat it'll be all right.

And babe, don't you know it's a pity
That the days can't be like the nights
In the summer, in the city.
In the summer, in the city . . .

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:54 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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