And what did you think of the Summer this time
With your blueberry beer and your cranberry wine
Fighting off mosquitoes, fighting off bees
Fighting off obligations, to do as you please

At least there is Rufus toward the Summer's end
He even said you could be his MySpace friend
He isn't straight, but he sings so sweet
You will sway to the music, dance to his beat

You will close your eyes and remember the days
When camping meant campfires and picking bouquets
You didn't swelter, you didn't stand in line
For a pool that requires wristbands and far too much time

You got your Harry in two satisfying ways
You worked on your theater, you put up your plays
It may have been work, it might not have been heaven
But that was the way during Summer o-seven