There's a girl who lives in England
They say she's a succubus
She just needs to learn how to boogie
Get down with the rest of us

And she cries (for the city)
They cry (for the town)

She looks a little bit rusty
Dresses like a bus seat, doesn't she?
She makes a mess like a junky
Scary little monkey, isn't she?

One day she's gonna wake up
And say "my goodness, fire in England! "

She says she doesn't dance on Sunday
For the love of thе holy ghost
She only does the mashеd mashed potato
On little people's throats

And they cry (for the city)
They cry (for the town)

She warms her hands in the stove
And both her feet are cloven, aren't they?
She makes love eating raw meat
Doesn't even call me, doesn't she?
One day she's gonna wake up
And say "my God, fire in England! "