Soft smell of summer girls walk tall by the cathedral
Heeled feet and cobbled street struggle to co-exist
But these long haired girls persist, with great clumsiness
Me and my friends take the piss at this extreme awkwardness

Scoring points with the lads but ruining our chances
Of making the night fly with some long advances
There’s plenty more good times to be had
Down the run…
Holding out for some fun

Rain sparks the street lights then splash the cars that whizz by
Boy-racer heartbreaker tries to sway the ladies
Who pose and pout, scream and shout
Casting long shadows down across the heart of town

Forming lines in the cold there legs on show and souls exposed
A low flying siren catches eyes as she walks by
I fear the sites about to ignite
The boys are on my side…
We take this town for a ride

Hit and run we sing our songs and shed our skins till we get home
Like small potatoes on a late night radio show

The music cracks a doe-eyed vamp dances from afar
Twirling and whirling serpent skinned across the bar
My eyes break wide as I crack a smile
At this temptress of desire setting hearts on fire

Black-eyed guys focus blind on her form
But she doesn’t mind and continues to hypnotize
Under tangled hair she casts me a stare
And everything falls away…

I say, ‘baby please come dance with me you look real sweet and the DJs got it right’
Problem it seems I’ve had a little too much to drink and forgotten I can’t dance!
She starts to laugh, she says, ‘you dance like an old man’
I’m sure she means Travolta
But I was wondering why everybody was looking over
And laughing…
Laughing

White knights ply the rights to sweep the fireflies off their feet
But get hung-up and strung-out by the bouncers on the street
Girls dressing to impress, treading fine lines of excess
But last the long hours through with pre-season freshness

Barman’s blind spots got the college boys tied up in knots
Last round whips out but a score down it won’t stop the rot
The crowd it sighs as the music stops as they
Turn on the club lights
And push us out into the night

Winning time arrives as the mob line long the high street
Tired eyes spy the prize of a chance meet with some sweet thing
Scattered deck of friends throwing up on the loose ends
Meet them back at the kebab for a chat and a little grease to lend

Pass the rank, hail a cab, haggle the man, send him astray
Dodge the fare, great escape but he gives chase down the alleyway
Hop a fence, left for dead by the way
Bringing it back home again
Where work waits for you in the morning

Hit and run our songs are sung, our wings are spread now we’re alone
Like small potatoes on a late night radio
Small potatoes on a late night radio
Small potatoes on a late night radio show…