The heat, the heat, it has a beat

Behind your knees!

From house to house

The AC roars

So noisy that

It shakes the doors.

Folks lock themselves

In icy rooms

As dim and cold

As clammy tombs.

Too hot to work

Out in their yards

They hide indoors

With "House of Cards."

(A first-rate time-waster, by the way.)

This heat, this heat

Can warp the brain

And even sunny

Folks complain.

They're so dang hot

They cannot eat

CHICAGO

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