Ooh,
Well, she's all geared up, walkin' down the street.
And I can feel the slime, drippin' down her sleeve.
Well, you can't refuse and you just can't choose what she's gonna do.
Well, you can't refuse and you just can't choose what she's gonna do.
Ooh,
Well, it's late at night, and I'm all alone.
And I can hear her boots as she's near her home.
Well, you can't refuse and you just can't choose what she's gonna do.
Well, you can't refuse and you just can't choose what she's gonna do.
Scratch, scratch, she's clawing at the door.
Whoa, no, I can't take it anymore.
Crack, crack I'm feeling so sore,
I never should asked for black leather.
Black leather. Ooh, black leather,
ow black leather.
And you can try to hide, but you won't get far.
You can let her in, and you'll start it again
Well, you can't refuse and you just can't choose what she's gonna do.
Well, you can't refuse and you just can't choose what she's gonna do.
Scratch, scratch, she's clawing at the door.
Whoa, no, I can't take it anymore.
Crack, crack I'm feeling so sore,
I never should asked for black leather.
Black leather. Ooh, black leather,
ow black leather.
compositores: PAUL THOMAS COOK, STEPHEN PHILIP JONES
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