She Won't Dance With Me / Little Queenie (Live)

Friday night, she's dressed to kill
Fishnet tights, wearing red high heels
All the boys say she's cold as ice
I won't sleep until I satisfied

I keep on watching her across the room
Waiting for the band to play a faster tune
I want her number, but I'm scared to ask
I wanna dance 'cause I wanna ask
Why the fuck is she ignoring me?
I don't know what's wrong with me

Dance with me
Dance with me
Dance with me
Why won't you dance with me?
Dance, dance, dance, dance with me

Here she comes, walking down the street
Synthesized eye wearing cellophane jeans
Practiced in the art of sexuality
My tongue gets tied when I try to speak
Got a hard-on, honey, hurts me like hell
If I don't bother another else will

Dance with me
Dance with me
Dance with me
Dance with me
Dance, dance, dance, dance with me

Tell me who's the queen
Standin' over by the record machine
Looking like a model
On the cover of a magazine
She's too cute to be a minute over 17

Go, go, go, little queenie
Go, go, go, little queenie
Go, go, go, little queenie

Meanwhile, I was still thinkin'
If it's a slow song, she'll omit it
If it's a rocker, then we'll get it
And if it's good, she'll admit it
C'mon, queenie, let's get with it

Go, go, go, little queenie
Go, go, go, little queenie
Go, go, go, little queenie

Dance with me
Won't you dance with me?
Dance with me
Dance with me
Dance, dance, dance, dance with me