Revised
When the pillow’s warm and the sheet is torrid,
When you put cold towels on your fervid forehead.
When the breeze won’t blow, when the moments creep,
When you toss all night and you get no sleep—
It’s hot, by George, it’s hot!
When you put cold towels on your fervid forehead.
When the breeze won’t blow, when the moments creep,
When you toss all night and you get no sleep—
It’s hot, by George, it’s hot!