I remember my dad used to toss back
a bottle of Schoenling now and then,
about the time we stood on the porch
scanning the stars for John Glenn.
He must've have been about ten years younger
than I am today,
with two kids on the ledger,
and a third kid on the way.
Back in the days of Hi-Fidelity,
Bobby Vinton, and Esquivel,
all the grown-ups, they never let on.
You don't grow up; you just go to hell.
Back in the days of Hi-Fidelity,
Sally Rogers and Buddy Sorrel
all the grown-ups, they never let on.
You don't grow up; you just go to hell.
I remember my mother used to hang
the laundry outside to dry.
One August day the radio blurted,
Marilyn Monroe had died.
I must have been about six or seven,
saving fireflies in a jar,
stayin' up past my bedtime,
watchin' ol' Jack Parr.
Back in the days of Hi-Fidelity,
Ice-blue Secret, and pearls in Prell
all the grown-ups, they never let on.
You don't grow up; you just go to hell.
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