This My Town Songtext
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Ninety-five degrees on the black top
I hear it’s cool on mars
used to be a dirt path behind our house
now just speeding european cars
and it’s too hot to play ball
so we sit and watch the summer fade
ninety-five degrees on the black top
ninety-four in the shade, yeah
ninety-four in the shade
I hear it’s cool on mars
used to be a dirt path behind our house
now just speeding european cars
and it’s too hot to play ball
so we sit and watch the summer fade
ninety-five degrees on the black top
ninety-four in the shade, yeah
ninety-four in the shade
well the heat was enormous
it fell like a gorgeous
blanket of indian clay
time drifting over us, stagnant like thunderclouds
pregnant and heavy with rain
this my town ain’t what it used to be
everything seems so much smaller than it
was
this my town they’re cutting down the tree
where we carved out our love I can hear the
buzz, buzz
I can hear just what it was
I can hear the buzz buzz buzz
should’ve seen it comin’ back then
always time for change
they sent hustlin’ pete for a bundle of cash
and they called it an even trade
and it’s to hot to play ball leather and string frayed at the seams
and the sweet hot smell of rain drenching
the pavement
blacktop tar now a field of dreams
CHORUS
la de da, dai da dai, dai dai
la de da, dai da dai
ninety-five degrees on the blacktop
I hear it’s cool on mars
used to be a dirt path behind our house
now just speeding european cars
it fell like a gorgeous
blanket of indian clay
time drifting over us, stagnant like thunderclouds
pregnant and heavy with rain
this my town ain’t what it used to be
everything seems so much smaller than it
was
this my town they’re cutting down the tree
where we carved out our love I can hear the
buzz, buzz
I can hear just what it was
I can hear the buzz buzz buzz
should’ve seen it comin’ back then
always time for change
they sent hustlin’ pete for a bundle of cash
and they called it an even trade
and it’s to hot to play ball leather and string frayed at the seams
and the sweet hot smell of rain drenching
the pavement
blacktop tar now a field of dreams
CHORUS
la de da, dai da dai, dai dai
la de da, dai da dai
ninety-five degrees on the blacktop
I hear it’s cool on mars
used to be a dirt path behind our house
now just speeding european cars
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