When I came to get you from your folks’
You said all I want to do is cry
I don’t have time for any of your jokes
You said all I want to do is cry
They treat me like I’m made of gold
All I want to do is cry
All I want to do is cry
A summer bop is the best kind of bop.
Effervescent and easy, light and bright,
This is ‘Summer in July’ – about as simple and succinct as one can get, and just as sonically unchallenging. You can dive deeper into the lyrics if you like, or stay close to the surface and the sunlight. It’s your call.
I wish I could make you love me
I wish I could make you a summer in July
A summer in July
A summer in July
Carefree and clothing-free, it’s time to let go of the swimsuit and let God’s natural attire slip through the pool water unfettered. Water, air, and light ~ primal and elemental and brilliant ~ breaking summer down into the most basic of basics.
We were driving home in my car
You said nothing makes me feel no more
So you opened up the passenger door
And said all I want to do is die
You treat me like I’m six years old
All I want to do is die
All I want to do is die
Every day after the first of summer loses a little light. We don’t feel it yet, but it’s happening. Summer can be insidious that way, summer knows how to sneak in and out at night. When I was a teenager, I’d slip out of the house on hot summer nights and walk around the neighborhood, feeling some sort of restlessness and wonder, something that wouldn’t be quelled or cooled by the air conditioner or the pool, or the glasses of iced tea that would sweat and drip before I could ever finish them.
On those walks, with the light of the street lamps shaded by the heavy canopy of maple trees and oaks – shadows beneath shadows – I found safety and security in the warm darkness, sure of myself and my solitude in a way that would comfort me on much colder days in the near and far future.
I wish I could make you love me
I wish I could make you want me
I wish a summer in July
A summer in July
Summer in July
