The girl they call Jeannie looks like Mussolini. She's rat arsed and out on the pole.
And there on the dance floor by the light of the jukebox she waltzes with wail on from Hull.
And she unzips her blouse as he lubricates his trousers and now she's undoing his tie.
And if he stays sober he'll get his leg over which is better than a poke in the eye.
But not much and he gets her name wrong and spews in her handbag but she don't care she's blind to his faults.
They're dancing till dawn.
And the jukebox keeps playing the premature each time.
You Asian waltz.
It starts to resemble a furtive knee trembler dancing with passion and feeling.
She kicks off her knickers and gives a muffler.
Flickers they fly up and stick to the ceiling.
And he's too polite now to mention outright how he's half a considerable size.
And she hopes he's so pissed he might not have noticed.
She's chafing his ears with her thighs.
Oops sideways he sings karaoke.
He came out of chokie last week but she's blind to his faults.
They're dancing till dawn.
And the jukebox keeps playing the premature each time.
You Asian waltz.
And he bumps fifty pence for the condom dispenser.
She carries him out to the cart.
And she puts the lights off.
And he rips her tights off.
They're at it.
Three beats to the bar.
And just like Jacques Cousteau he dives in with gusto.
And she suggests something obscene.
And hopes with persuasion he'll rise to the occasion.
And he prays that his Y-fronts are clean.
And she's had nine pints of dog bolter.
So she thinks he's John Travolta.
And she don't care she's blind to his faults.
They're dancing till dawn.
And the jukebox keeps playing the premature each time.
You Asian waltz.
They're dancing till dawn.
And the jukebox keeps playing the premature each time.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, I'm sorry.
Oh, that's never happened before.
You Asian waltz.