| You never told me of your other faces
|
| You were the widow of a wild cat
|
| And now I know about your special kisses
|
| And I know you know where that’s at
|
| I guess I recognise your destination
|
| I think I see beneath your make-up
|
| What you want is sort of separation
|
| This is no ordinary
|
| This is no ordinary
|
| (Ah, ah, ah)
|
| What a criminal world
|
| The boys are like baby-faced girls
|
| What a criminal girl
|
| She’ll show you where to shoot your gun
|
| What a typical mother’s son
|
| The only thing that she enjoys
|
| Is a criminal world
|
| Where the girls are like baby-faced boys
|
| You’ve got a very heavy reputation
|
| But no-one knows about your low-life
|
| I know a way to find a situation
|
| And hold a candle to your high-life disguise
|
| You caught me kneeling at your sister’s door
|
| That was no ordinary stick-up
|
| I’m well aware just what you’re looking for
|
| I am no ordinary
|
| I am no ordinary
|
| (Ah, ah, ah)
|
| What a criminal world
|
| The boys are like baby-faced girls
|
| What a criminal girl
|
| She’ll show you where to shoot your gun
|
| What a typical mother’s son
|
| The only thing that she enjoys
|
| Is a criminal world
|
| Where the girls are like baby-faced boys |