Those nice hips have taken to sinking ships
A bit to good at it, she starts developing a habit.
She learned that she bats her eye and gets her way
Please, Lady Luck, let the sailors live another day!

He speaks in a muffled mumble, looks to the floor
She smiles on the inside, those ones made her want more
More then the cash in the wallet, more then being their harlot
Their inexperience more thrilling then their perseverance

Lady Luck keep those lips together leave alone the ships
We’ve got balance in our love hate we made the par
Of balancing lust with power and acting like it was more
Acting like it was love which made us constantly at war.

Sugar is dancing with a bit too much hip they say
Take away the mistletoe let the sailors live another day.
She has a wiggle to her walk and something about her talk-
Talking at you makes you stutter and that’s what melts her like butter.

 
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