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(Ian McLagan, Ronnie Lane)

My mum she likes you, she thinks your swell,
Got the makin's of a dance hall girl.
Your low-cut frock and your bird's nest hair,
Stiletto heels and the way that you swear.
She said to take you back to see my folks again,
On Sunday

Why, it looks as though there's nobody in,
They've all gone out to see my Auntie Renee.
Don't you worry, you just come right in,
I'm sure we'll pass the time till they come home.
Well, let me take your coat, kick off your shoes,
Warm your toes, try the sofa.

It's getting dark, we'll miss the late night bus
It's only eight?
Well, I'm not takin' any chances.
What's that noise? Why'd they come back so soon?
Straighten your dress you're really looking a mess.
I'll wet my socks, pretend we just got caught in the rain.
Oh, your so rude.

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