A metaphorical song about sex.

I was a little too tall
Couldve used a few pounds
Tight pants points hardly reknown
She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes
And points all her own sitting way up high
Way up firm and high

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy
Out in the back seat of my 60 chevy
Workin on mysteries without any clues
Workin on our night moves
Tryin to make some front page drive-in news
Workin on our night moves
In the summertime
In the sweet summertime

We werent in love, oh no, far from it
We werent searchin for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
Livin by the sword
And wed steal away every chance we could
To the backroom, to the alley or the trusty woods
I used her, she used me
But neither one cared
We were gettin our share
Workin on our night moves
Tryin to lose the awkward teenage blues
Workin on our night moves
And it was summertime

And oh the wonder
We felt the lightning
And we waited on the thunder
Waited on the thunder

I awoke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Aint it funny how the night moves
When you just dont seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in