Where are ya hiding, my nasty pet?
Why not get any closer?
What pictures ya make, what roads ya take?
Sands of the South? Warsaw?
Where are ya dancing, red-haired mac?
What pair of boots is spoiled, love?
Those arms and yer neck, those hands on yer back
Among the protected sportlife.
What smoke dopes yer grey eyes, my honey pet?
Who taught ya to look through me, love?
Oh, way we have met, I simply turned mad
On natural gold with silver.
Where can I find ya, ya, drunk and glad,
While ya nasty swine are drinking?
Bend over yer drink, ya short squatty lad.
I wish you were him, one blinking.
Where arev ya riding, red-haired guy?
London or Moskow? Glasgow?
My life and my light, my love at first sight,
I ll catch ya by my arms, love.