Broken summer, broken summer To us, back to us Pulling on my sweatshirt, looking at your picture 'Cause that broken summer's hanging over me Drowning in the sunshine, and I spend a long time Thinking, girl, you got the best of me Hopping on a flight,

This I gotta see. Her hair's still wet from her bath, She's sitting on her front porch with a glass, Of iced tea, In my sweatshirt, And her bare feet, If I hurry I can catch, The colors on her skin from that sunset, And her face,