Dance Little Rude Boy

Hey, with your natty threads and your nifty dreads And your Dagenham royal swagger With your tricky spiels and your Cuban heels And the face of a carpet-bagger With your sweet cologne and your mobile phone And the moves of a desperado You will cut a swathe on your gangster's lathe And an overdose of bravado We see your double hip to the trippy tip And your searching every quarter You can throw more shapes than a jackanapes To someone's lovely daughter So dance little rude boy, dance Dance little rude boy, dance Dance little rude boy, dance You've got to know something Drive me to distraction Drive me really mad Drive me to the action Take me one more tad Drive me to the west wing Drive me to the right Drive me to the best thing That has happened to me all night Hey, you turned up trumps in your purple pumps And a little bit of made to measure With your shiny frock and your yellow socks You're addressing it to your pleasure With an urchin crop and a skimpy top You've got to have a good thing going With your lazy grace and your crazy face Who cares if your slip is showing? Now we can see you're hip to the mother ship When you pop into the north horizon You're the one who's having all the fun With everybody's eyes on So dance little rude girl, dance Dance little rude girl, dance Dance little rude girl, dance You've got to know something Make me go bananas Make me feel so right Take me to Navona And leave me there all night Make me hit the ceiling Send me round the bend Take me back to Ealing When the evening end --- Dance Little Rude Boy - Ian Dury