she likes a tan
 she steals my infra fed when I'm gone
 oh no can it be
 we're heading for a heatwave
 Her legs are brown
 a trace of rust
 she's in love with a MKII deluxe
 oh no can it be we're heading for a heatwave
 Her hair is bleached like it's been boiled
 she browns herself in a sea of olive oil
 and I come around and she's relaxing
 in the conservatory