Light up her life,
Slicin' her thighs,
Sleeping with knives
For a new high.

Candido she,
She's a love-machine,
Gotta a lot of love for libertine.

Baby-come-lately,
Will never break free,
Run outta old thrills on her own;
But that disco fever
Will never leave her,
She boogies so low, on tonight!

Wearing her clothes,
Knows what you know,
Walk like me-so,
Like mosquito.