When you kick off your shoes
And I see the wet grass give way underneath your feet
And the sunset rears up once more to it's burial ground
Well, you look so sweet

And I know you'll be turning me in
But I also know your real name's not amy lynn
And as the orange globe rears up to swallow us, too,
I see you look at me and figure out what I know about you
Well, I'm not telling
I'm not telling you anything