She likes it hot

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