She's an auburn-haired girl from a town of Spanish sand,
and she wades through Junior High with a radio in her hand,
and she never talks to the country kids,
she just moves with the times like her mother did,
and when she comes in the spring,
her touch can do everything,
`cause she wears my ring.
Oo-ooh, American records.
She never looks at her watch, 'cause time's the clock of her heart.
Her eyes are a million years, she sighs like a movie star,
and under the boardwalk by the sea,
with my baby is where I'll be,
and when she comes in the spring,
her touch can do everything,
`cause she wears my ring.
Oo-ooh, American records.
And under the boardwalk by the sea,
with my baby is where I'll be,
and when she comes in the spring,
her touch can do everything,
`cause she wears my ring.
Oo-ooh, American records.
`Cause she wears my ring.
Oo-ooh, American records.
Oo-ooh, American records.
Oo-ooh, American records.
American records.
American records.
