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Outside the cafe by the cracker factory,
You were practisin' a magic trick,
And my thoughts got rude, as you talked and chewed,
On the last of your pick and mix.

Said you're mistaken if you thinkin' that I haven't been caught cold before
As you bit into your strawberry lace,
And then a flip in your attention in the form of a gobstopper,

Stop making the eyes at me, I'll stop making the eyes at you
And what it is that suprises me, is that I don't really want you to
And your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night)
Oh but you're an explosion (you're dynamite)
Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand
Lighting the fuse might result in a bang, with a bang-go!

I bet that you look good on the dancefloor