You Strike My Fancy

We made it known By slow dancing At the Turning Point You put your hands On my bottom Soft, but all powerful Your tongue bathed my ear Making our kisses Taste like wax We were on stage And that was half the fun of it Though, having your punk girlfriend Sling her waitress tray at my head Made the event A bit of a downer I ducked and ran for cover I grabbed my camel hair coat And I descended sixteen stairs to the street I was on fire, I was on fire, I was on fire What about you? Even thirty years later I wonder still What was your favourite colour? Was it vermillion? A first love never dies Even if you try To kill it in its sleep Do you still want me? To stop it in its tracks You ain't coming back We made it known By slow dancing At the Turning Point I put my hands On your bottom Soft, but all powerful Your tongue bathed my ear Making our kisses Taste like wax Making our kisses Taste like wax Making our kisses Taste like wax