Butcher Jazz: She's On Drugs

(And you can dance...)

Good grief, won't you look on the dancefloor!
She's got to be American; she's not from here
Oh no! I can't even look away
She's just far too thin and beautiful as sin
We're all living in a world of poetry
Eating polyester and committing adultery
Calm down, boy! I'll tell you the secret
It's ever so simple it really, really is

Hey! Sha-la-la-la Oo my-my
She's On Drugs What's up?
Hey! Sha-la-la-la Oo my-my
She's On Drugs

So steady on, get a grip on yourself
You just can't act like that in the theatre
Where'd you get that look in your eyes
Behaving like the boss of a whole new religion
Said please! I thought you got savvy
But you're looking like a lemon and talking like a navvy
Ah I guess that's so many people's problem these days:
You can see the hills - you just can't go there

Aw, it simply shouldn't ever occur
If she puts her arms above her head like that again
I don't know what I'll say or do
Hey Charlie

Now I'm out on the street and I believe she's in distress
She's got her hair in her eyes and her eyes are in a mess
Hey now, I've been hoping we was going to meet
Now won't you take my hand so I can help you across the street?
Whooo! Talk about bloodsports!
Even the spectators get killed!
You can see the cars, you just can't get out of their way

Ah this simply doesn't happen to me
If you have a single night like that in town again
I don't know what I'd say or do
Oh, but honey? I think I want to do it with you