This is not a band. This is not a singer. These are songwriter demos. Content may range from "just for fun" blues, to something written with the pop charts in mind.
[v1]
She came from New York City
No one saw her arrive
She carried her bag and body
That's all she needed to survive
[v2]
Her red hair came from Revlon
The curls fell down to her waist
You could tell she was a dancer
And you couldn't wait to have a taste.
[pre-chorus]
It grew quiet as she entered the place.
She wore black chiffon with a touch of lace
[ch]
The music played with a latin beat
Her body sway turned up the heat
Don't even try to romance her
She's a hot, hot, hot blooded dancer
[v3]
She danced on but kept searching
Looked for one to keep her hot
She burned them til there was no one
Except for you, you're all she's got
[v4]
Your fast moves kept her beating
She breathed fire, but you stayed cool
There's no time here for teaching
Because this isn't a dancing school
[pre-chorus]
It grew quiet as she entered the place.
She wore black chiffon with a touch of lace
[ch]
The music played with a latin beat
Her body sway turned up the heat
Don't even try to romance her
She's a hot, hot, hot blooded dancer
She's a hot, hot, hot blooded dancer
She's a hot, hot, hot blooded dancer
