Well, it's too damn early and your eyes are bleeding

From the vicious bottle the night before

And the last thing you need is a nicety-nice

And small talk crawls out your ears



Maybe it makes you feel just like an undercover Sigmund Freud

I hear it makes you feel just like an undercover Sigmund Freud



Hey there, hey now, hey there, hey now

Well, you can make a pacemaker blink, yeah, easy thing

Make a man's heart go bibbity-bom, bippity-bom, bippity-bom

Like a gentle drum and knowing you, it ain't ever done



So go on, go on, go on, darling, go on

Yeah, go on, go on darling, go on, go on



Yeah, the secretaries and typewriters chattering away

Chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter

Chatter-chatter-chatter, chatter away

It ought to make you sick when you hear a woman cry



When she don't get just whatever she wants

But not my woman, she just keeps on keeping on

That's my woman, my woman

That moving on shuffle side to side

That sure can turn me on



Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll



Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now

And the beach is a thing and the bees don't sting

Like complaining from a downtown whore

I got my plasma patches and my hypodermic

In hermetically sealed kid gloves



Yeah, tell me

Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me

Tell me

Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me



Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Dirty-ass rock 'n' roll

Writer : CALE, JOHN
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group