Makeout Jeans

Slip your make-out jeans Over yr hips Make sure they can see You know you've got cake They'll call it a superstition But wait a while Soon, lucky in love They'll fit like a glove And you're away Drive from the passenger seat Your feet on the steering wheel You've carved out your niche In your driver's heart Dance into the driveway Streetlights of red and white Cold night, you're on the make Your jeans hug your thighs In their rough embrace