Lyrics:
to a rock 'n' roll prayer
For the auto-change arm on the Dansette player
Well you can say what you like about your shiny CDs
And your websites streaming all
her crummy room
Her Dansette crackles to Jimi's tune
I don't care, I taste ambre solaire
Her neck, her thighs, her lips, her hair
Ring a ding ding
her crummy room
Her dansette crackles to Jimi's tune
I don't care I taste Ambre Solaire
Her neck her thighs her lips her hair
Ring a ding ding ding
career
Selling lies to the boys with the old Dansettes
Pulling the wool, playing the fool, it's no wonder that
He is dribbling spit tonight
Dansette playing soft, a gin'll do no harm
No one could resist Sidney Wells' charm
Cheryl was a waitress at the works canteen
Older than she looked,
Her dansette crackles to Jimi's tune
I don't care I taste Ambre Solaire
Her neck, her thighs, her lips, her hair
Ring-a-ding-ding-ding, I'm going down,
her crummy room
Her dansette crackles to Jimi's tune
I don't care I taste Ambre Solaire
Her neck her thighs her lips her hair
Ring a ding ding ding
How I wish that I could feel the good
Beyond the poison in us like you do
LP records in your little hands
Put them on your little dansette for
I'm sitting on your sofa
Thinking about how things rhyme
How I wish you'd plug the dansette in
And turn it up just one more time
One more time
There's danger in the air
They walk around in pairs
Dancing to the Dansette
Well God Almighty don't forget
You came here with me.
While
You're cranking up the Dansette
Loading up the 45's
A static filled speaker crackles into life
You're dialing in the radio
Poised above the play
You're cranking up the Dansette
Loading up the 45's
A static filled speaker crackles into life
You're dialing in the radio
Poised above the play
on the floor in the box room
Ratatattat Tutankhamun
Boom boom boom Tutankhamun
Dansette on the turn in the box room
'Turn that racket down Tutankhamun!'
Arrows
I lock myself in my room before my TV set
Looking for a good program but I haven't found one yet
I put an old record on my mom's Dansette
Since I
Secateurs of love, trim the family tree
Signature on a baked bean tin, something hot for tea
A frosted window, the old Dansette
A knackered
Golden soundwaves in my head
From the clock radio by my bed
And the Dansette on the floor
Nat King Cole and soul and roll out the door
Geno
I lock myself in my room before my TV set
Looking for a good program but I haven't found one yet
I put an old record on my mom's Dansette
Since I
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