Luv ya’ in those pants,
How bout we get out of ere’,
Let’s go an flamin’ dance,
So he took her to the disco,
And did Travolta proud,
She danced like the neutron bomb,
As the patrons formed a crowd.
His love for her was magic,
And she loved her farmer Michael,
She whispered quite despondently,
I’ve got me menstral cycle.
But bein’ an innocent country lad,
E’ told er this night will be beaut,
Don’t worry bout’ ya’ cycle girl,
I’ve got me uncle’s flamin’ ute.
Paolo copyright 1980