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He says I'm pretty wearin' his clothes
And he's got hands that make hell seem cold
Feet on the dashboard, he's like a poem I wish I wrote
I wish I wrote
And he laughs at all my jokes
And he says I'm so American
Oh God, it's just not fair of him
To make me feel this much
I'll go anywhere he goes
And he says I'm so American
Oh God, I'm gonna marry him
If he keeps this shit up
(I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love)