F C F F
I peeled off my face, I tore up my room
I read my own rights and I filled them with glue
I turned the commercial into a creepshow
I peeped at the gods with their bodies all day-glo
It’s summertime
And it’s that time
To strut and strum
I’m gonna strut strut strut
I’m gonna
I’m combing my braids, I’m sneezing my brain
Drinking shampoo and I’m tasting my grave
I’m soothing myself inside out
And I’m wearing my welcome inside out
It’s summertime
And it’s that time
To strut my stuff
Woo
People getting touchy while I touch my thighs
And take a vacation under friendly skies
With my peacock heart, I want to grunt and groan
Cut and paste all I’ve ever known
It’s summertime
And it’s that time
To strut and strum
I’m gonna strut my stuff
Oh oh oh oh oh
With my peacock hands and my tangerine skulls
And my grizzly bear face and my voice from Target
And it’s summertime
Gonna strut my stuff
Gonna strut strut
Going backwards in time
With my questionable eyes
And I’m drinking my grave
And I stood on my face
