1975 - Billy Raffoul

I woke up to greeting cards

From people I don’t know no more

I woke up to blue above

And blue below these wooden floors

This kind of thing, it can’t be told

This kind of thing, it won’t be done

I drove home on interstate

Wishing I had learnt to fly

She’s my Canadian girl

On the fifth day of July

This kind of thing, it can’t be told

This kind of thing, it won’t be done

When 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

And everyone gets a moment when

It’ll never be the same again

Someday I’ll write down

If it’s okay, I won’t change the names

I don’t know how the story ends

But I know that it began this way

And this kind of thing, it can’t be told

This kind of thing, it won’t be done

When 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

And everyone gets a moment when

It’ll never be the same again

This kind of love, it can’t be told

This kind of love, it won’t be done

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

And everyone gets a moment when

It’ll never be the same again

When she said time and time again

I wouldn’t be alive

If it wasn’t for the summer of 1975