boy its hot

Boy it was hot so hot it nearly messed my hair all up it was dripping swayed and ice on my head I was like a ice cream cone slowly melting away anthill there was nothing left put a piano it sandy a swathe song the whole way through it was jazz where choir dance and dance and I found a sea shell his name was hermit he did not speak he just sat on a log and drank hard cider, I chose the clock for a partner to dance she was drinkin’ rum, the camp fire was made out of old paintings a man in the back shouted something about taxes and I ran drifting away to another upright of town where i'm into welcome and norther are my shoes they hang high on the cologne and cannot reach them I am to short and my glasses are all fogged up the drum beat dies donna and I coat cry because the pond is all washed up.