One Hundred Four

According to my phone, it feels Like it’s one hundred four. The heat attacks the minute That you walk outside the door. In places where they’ve never Had to use a/c at all, There simply aren’t units left To heed each desperate call. I have a little country house Where fans once did the trick, But in this heat we packed and left, Back to the city, quick. So now in my apartment I am stuck, but I’m no fool – I’ve traded in the great outdoors For someplace nice and cool.