[Intro] [Loud, driving, distorted electric guitar riff plays twice] [Fast, energetic drum beat kicks in] [Vocal cue: Deadpan female vocal, double-tracked, sassy but flat] [Verse 1] You walk in with your reading glasses on Your salt and pepper hair is getting kind of long You take your statins and you stretch out your hip I want to bite down on your bottom lip Your silver hair shines like a dime in the grass And you still love to grab my sagging bare ass You got the blue pill, I got the silicone lube We’re getting naked while we’re watching YouTube [Chorus] [Guitars get louder, cymbals crashing] [Vocal cue: Breathy, slightly higher pitch, elongated vowels] And you roll in... like a silver tidal wave And you... are the only thing I crave Yeah, you fuck like a hurricane, holding me tight Even if your blood pressure is peaking tonight You're my middle-aged supernova Yeah, my late-stage supernova [Verse 2] [Music pulls back to just the driving bassline and drums] [Vocal cue: Conversational, dry, deadpan delivery] You take your time 'cause the knees ain't so great But we've been practicing since nineteen ninety-eight You go down on me and my arthritis fades We’re pulling the blinds and drawing the shades You kiss my neck, you make my hot flashes spike We’re riding hard like an electric bike You know my body and you know what to do I'd trade my whole 401k just for you [Chorus] [Guitars come roaring back in] [Vocal cue: Breathy, slightly higher pitch, elongated vowels] And you roll in... like a silver tidal wave And you... are the only thing I crave Yeah, you fuck like a hurricane, holding me tight Even if your blood pressure is peaking tonight You're my middle-aged supernova Yeah, my late-stage supernova [Guitar Solo] [Messy, noisy 90s alternative guitar solo] [Heavy, fast drum fills] [Bridge] [Music drops out entirely except for a single palm-muted guitar strum] [Vocal cue: Very close to the mic, almost spoken word, intimate] Your skin is soft, your hands are rough I'm fifty-eight and I can't get enough You trace the stretch marks right over my hips And I still melt from the taste of your lips God, I love your chemical erection You're my favorite kind of affection [Chorus] [Explosive return of all instruments, maximum 90s indie rock energy] [Vocal cue: Loud, double-tracked, enthusiastic but deadpan] And you roll in... like a silver tidal wave And you... are the only thing I crave Yeah, you fuck like a hurricane, holding me tight Even if your blood pressure is peaking tonight You're my middle-aged supernova Yeah, my late-stage supernova [Outro] [Driving beat continues, guitars wailing and feeding back] [Vocal cue: Chanting, deadpan] Supernova. Silver fox. Supernova. Don't forget to lock the doors. [Feedback swells] [Abrupt stop on a heavy drum crash]
