1965

My hair is high, coke is cheap It's a great time to be alive Studies are now saying that cigarettes are recommended And women belong in the kitchen We'd go to church on a Sunday, wake up on Monday You'd go to work, and I'd stay home and sing and do fun things I might get a little slap-slap, but you wouldn't hit me on Snapchat Don't fuckin' text me at 2 a.m. sayin', "Where you at, at?" Boy, fuck you You'd handwrite me letters when you went away You'd make me feel better, you'd know what to say And maybe you'd still be a hoe But if you cheated, hell, I wouldn't know I want you to love me (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) Like it's 1965 (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) Oh-oh I want you to want me (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) I think I'd give up a few rights (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) If you would just love me like it's 1965 You'd show up at the door with flowers and ask me What I am doing an hour half past three We'd go to diners and movies and such We'd just hold hands and I'd love every touch and I would be 20, and it'd be acceptable For you to be 40 and that is fucked up, I know But at least you wouldn't drive off before I get in the fuckin' door You fuckin' fuck, fuck you I want you to love me (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) Like it's 1965 (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) Oh I want you to want me (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) I think I'd give up a few rights (hair up high, hair up high, hair up high) If you would just love me like it's 1965 I guess Bud Light didn't exist Fuck, and I guess movies didn't exist Maybe they did, I'm not sure about that timeline, but I'm sure about that you are mine and I am yours And I'd fight matadors And Dirty Dancing wasn't a thing yet, I love that movie, fuck But oh, we could read a lot of books, ah-la