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 Navana

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