Summertime is nice and hot,
And my life is sweet like vanilla is.
Gold and silver line my heart
But burned into my brain are these stolen images,
Stolen images, baby, stolen images.
Can you picture it,
Babe, the life we could've lived?
We were two kids, just tryin' to get out,
Live on the dark side of the American dream.
We would dance all night, play our music loud,
When we grew up nothing was what it seemed.