Oh feel the comotion in the air
As she takes a step out on the veiled stair
Her face it gleams and her hair is so faire
Oh feel the comotion in the air
But her face grows distant as she walks
She doesn't even notice them or their talks
She is a beast and the night is where she stalks
But her face grows distant as she walks
And then she spots him walking through the crowd
A yella man with his head in the clouds
An easy prey for the nympho in her
And then she spots him walking through the crowd
She's the kind of-a woman who likes to be in control
Countless men would have sold their souls
Just to have a moment at her soles
She's the kind of-a woman who likes to be in control
Well, she spends the night and everything seems pre-planned
After all he's not even much of a man
But something goes amiss and it all gets out of hand
She spends the night and everything seems pre-planned
"What's happening to me?" she quietly yells
"Oh my 'whatever' please send help
"He's not my man and he never will be"
"What's happening to me?" she quietly yells
And then she spots him walking to her
That yella man with the gift; a fur
She's an easy prey for the lover in him
And then she spots him walking to her