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