Wild Thing
Music: Oleg "O_!z" Izotov; Lyrics: Rag Doll

You're dialing a number and she's on the line
Her voice is so poisonous sweet
Your fuse is aflame, ringing fire-alarm
You're looking for pressure pills, what a shame

Desire's your religion but she's teasing you
You don't see the "Danger" sign
You're playing with fire near dynamite
Your funeral train is on the way, poor brave man…

We call her little wild thing
A storm on high heels
You can feel the heat
We call her little wild thing
Your mind is x-rayed
And your heart is off the beat

She's moving so slowly like a vamp from hell
She's catching your sweaty greasy stare
You're taking a chance in the game you can't win
With the six of spades against the ace, not your day…

She passed the exams on the license to kill
And she got 10 out of 10
She gave you a test on the lust, you got stressed
You failed, now frustration's your friend, oh man…

We call her little wild thing
A storm on high heels
You can feel the heat
We call her little wild thing
Your mind is x-rayed
And your heart is off the beat

 

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