It was a dry heat in the sunshine of a small town,
Where obnoxious orange flowers stared out of the brown,
Small sweat drops gather at my hair line,
And the air above the black road seems to shine.
I know the exact moment summer seemed to chill,
And sharp winds turned and chased us up the hill.
But I can’t remember when I first heard the drummer,
Say, the world is bigger than this small town in summer.
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