White Horse in July is summertime
For once in my life I'm living right
Taking it so easy and in stride
No need for everything to be uptight
King-Can with the Irish man
Twenty grilled cheese from a frying pan
A toke in the showers with a couple of friends
And a backpack full of twelve Heinekens
Bombs on the beach for the birth of a nation
Neon vests checking on our celebration
Flashlights breaking up the congregation
Wanderers looking for a new location
Oh, middle of the night, middle of the street
The whole crowd stopped but just to breath
One man watching from his balcony
While I'm sitting on some logs with my new twelve string
Crowd whittled down to the remaining eight
Two broke off for a preplanned date
Two went and made what they needed to make
And two came close but they got too baked (haha)
Two Canadian shirts on the third of July
Our backs turned against the Earth looking up at the sky
Talking with the stranger that I found on the beach
I Never thought she'd ever think to talk to me
But that's the way these things seem to go
You never plan these moments but they're magical
You couldn't make up these stories but they happen though
You might not have ever had one but when you do you'll know