| I met her on a Friday evening
|
| Heading for the city lights
|
| She asked me to take her all of the way
|
| She was really in the mood that night
|
| I drove on 'till I was tired
|
| Asked her if she’d care to stay
|
| I booked a room in a fancy hotel
|
| And said we’d carry on the next day
|
| We hadn’t spoken but a word or so
|
| When she began to unbutton my shirt
|
| I lifted her blouse, there was nothing underneath
|
| Then I slid my hands inside her shirt
|
| Everything about her was golden
|
| She was as hot as the rising sun
|
| She was real as it comes and nothing so real
|
| Than the two of us together made one
|
| Never take sweets from a stranger
|
| She may want to take you for aride
|
| Never take sweets from a stranger
|
| She lay in my arms in the morning
|
| Said she had to make a telephone call
|
| I said «Make it here while I step in the shower»
|
| But she said she’d make it in the hall
|
| I dozed in the soft light shadows
|
| Turned to find that she wasn’t there
|
| I phoned on down to the reception desk
|
| For the girl with the golden hair
|
| I pulled on my clothes and went down to the hall |
| Looked all around and who knows where
|
| They said that they hadn’t seen her at all
|
| Then they other guests began to stare
|
| They showed me the morning papers
|
| On the front page of the Daily Sun
|
| Was a picture of the girl with the golden hair
|
| She’d been a victim of a hit and run |