I’d rather speak with you about summer,
Than visit all my doctors every week.
With every touch of you it’s getting warmer,
Unlike their words, yours heal. I’m not sick.

I’d rather take your hand and kiss it slowly,
Than drinking something slowly at a bar.
I feel the same – a little bit of worries,
And funny thing that I can drive a car.

Let’s take a ride and jump right in my caddy.
Let’s burn some tires near traffic lights,
Let’s drive way and leave it all behind,
And drive as long as still we have a gas.