Lyrics:
Philmore The Bare Truth About Philmore

She didn't want my body, she only want my mind She liked making me feel naughty and she'd treat me so unkind Lucy wasn't like the stories that I read

I hear that on a date she'll make you wait 'Cause she thinks it takes an hour to be fashionably late When sooner comes to later you will love her or

Oooh, sing a song of island nights Hang your party lights Count the meteorites Oooh, like a heartsick summer song Bring your girl along Getz/Gilberto

Four on the floor, knock on the door It's finally a quarter to eight and Looks like everybody's ready and waiting One of the guys, little beady eyes