OUT TO FLIRT Tradanon Video Productions
(lyrics by Roger Coghill, 2015)
Well, hello, girls, we’re here again!
Out on the town without the men.
We’ll spill the beans, we’ll dish the dirt
We’ll drink some wine: we’re out to flirt!
Now that our blokes are out of sight
We’ll have a bit of fun tonight.
Now, what’s that fella who I saw
You with on Friday? Tell us more.
Oh, you mean Bollo; Bollo Green.
He had the smallest ever seen.
A disappointment, I’m afraid.
He didn’t get past second grade.
Just goes to show, he looked so fine;
I rather fancied him for mine.
But when the chips were down (know what I mean!)
I took one look and wasn’t keen.
Oh, by the way, that record store
Is closing down with deals galore.
L.P.s of Elvis going cheap,
Enough to make his fan club weep.
What else is new? Not much I fear.
They say your Jack drinks too much beer.
He’s always pissed. It’s not much fun
When he’s not back ‘til half past one.
Your nails! Oh what a gorgeous shade!
I had them done when I got paid.
But if you knew the price you’d faint!
Amazing! Just a little paint!
Another vino? White Chablis.
Let’s have a bottle or two. Or three.
It’s Friday night, we’re feeling fine.
Who’s stinting on a glass of wine?
Wooh, girls, I feel a bit unsteady.
Wooh! Someone get the taxi ready.
Wooh, girls, the pain inside my head
Wooh, girls, I think it’s time for bed.
Oh, there she goes. Now who would think
That Gloria can’t hold her drink.
Oh God, she’s squiffy. Oh, she’s tight!
I think we’ll just call it a night.
How boring! Not a man in sight!
Just thought: it’s football match tonight.
I guess we got our just desert;
We shouldn’t have come out to flirt.
Wooh, girls, I feel a bit unsteady.
Wooh! Someone get the taxi ready.
Wooh, girls, the pain inside my head
Wooh, girls, I think it’s time for bed.
Oh, there she goes. Now who would think
That Gloria can’t hold her drink.
Oh God, she’s squiffy. Oh, she’s tight!
I think we’ll just call it a night.
How boring! Not a man in sight!
Just thought: it’s football match tonight.
I guess we got our just desert;
We shouldn’t have come out to flirt.