Roger Chapman - Chicken Fingers lyrics

Well she looked like easy-money, Sitting in the bank When I asked her for some time she said "Try another line" I just turned away and shrank She said "Now you ain't really happening" Hm, that was counter-rap "All you chicken-livered-lovers who go fooling round with others, you don't get away with that boys" Let your fingers do the talking Put away your mouth If your only speed is fantasy You can beat it – beat it now Now she wore an easy halo, this quiet flame of old Well she looked like Kathy Turner But my a** was on a burner With my love like on hold, hold it – hold it – hold it Go sonny Somethings I guess are fated, we met again by chance We ate a small lasagne Then we danced a sly cabana This chicken sure learned how fast Let your fingers do the talking Put away your mouth If your only speed is fantasy You can beat it – beat it now Beat it now