Fire in England

There's a girl who lives in England

They say she's a succubus

She just needs to learn how to boogie

Get down with the rest of us

And she cries (for the city)

They cry (for the town)

She looks a little bit rusty

Dresses like a bus seat, doesn't she?

She makes a mess like a junky

Scary little monkey, isn't she?

One day she's gonna wake up

And say "my goodness, fire in England!"

She says she doesn't dance on Sunday

For the love of thе holy ghost

She only does the mashеd mashed potato

On little people's throats

And they cry (for the city)

They cry (for the town)

She warms her hands in the stove

And both her feet are cloven, aren't they?

She makes love eating raw meat

Doesn't even call me, doesn't she?

One day she's gonna wake up

And say "my God, fire in England!"