Woke up to greeting cards from people I don't know no more
Woke up to blue above and blue below these wooden floors
This kind of thing, you can't be told
This kind of thing, you won't be taught
I drove home on the interstate
Wishing I had learned to fly
She's my Canadian girl
On the fifth day of July
This kind of thing, you can't be told
This kind of thing, you won't be taught
And she said time and time again
"I wouldn't be alive
If it wasn't for the summer of 1975"
And it'll never be
It'll never be the same
Yeah, everyone gets a moment when
It'll never be the same again
Someday I'll write it down
If it's okay, I won't change the names
I don't know where the story ends
But I know that it began this way
And this kind of thing, you can't be told
And his kind of thing, you won't be taught
And she said time and time again
"I wouldn't be alive
If it wasn't for the summer of 1975"
And it'll never be
It'll never be the same
Yeah, everyone gets a moment when
It'll never be the same again
This kind of love, you can't be told
This kind of love, you won't be taught
It'll never be
It'll never be the same
It'll never be the same again
It'll never be
It'll never be the same
Yeah, everyone gets a moment when
It'll never be the same again
And she said time and time again
"I wouldn't be alive
If it wasn't for the summer of 1975"
