Weathered sign on the marquee
An old film playing at the show
He could tell by the clouds up top
And old northern was about to blow
So he hopped in his pick-up truck
Steered it on down the road
Then he picked up his dark-haired beauty
Drove on down nice and slow, singing
This is my girl
This is my world
This is my girl
This is my world
A lovers' tune on the stereo