Bored walking on the boardwalk, New Jersey Shore. If I come to New York, can I sleep on your floor? I 've been living out of a suitcase on the motel floor and running up tabs at the corner store. I 'm barely walking on the boardwalk anymore. When summer gets along, your hair gets too long. I 'm picking up the habit of drinking long before four, when July is gone, I 'll be twenty-four and then not anymore. New Jersey shore, New Jersey shore, then not anymore.
