| You order margaritas for your friends
|
| In the trendy bars at the world’s end
|
| I can see death there consoling old girlfriends
|
| Says there’s a guest list place down in heaven
|
| It’s a familiar feeling
|
| I’m high as the ceiling
|
| And I’m never ever coming down
|
| Those dirty girls, girls
|
| Are gonna steal your heart away
|
| Their naughty words, words
|
| That take the devils breath away
|
| Inside your world, world
|
| Like plastic Californ-i-a
|
| Those dirty girls, girls
|
| Are gonna have their wicked way
|
| With you
|
| You put the fun back into the funeral
|
| You’ve got your head, back, feet on the table
|
| You speak the strangest tongues with your close friends
|
| To decorate the walls of your weekend
|
| And when you’ve got them kneeling
|
| They look less appealing
|
| But you’re never ever coming down
|
| Those dirty girls, girls
|
| Are gonna steal your heart away
|
| Their naughty words, words
|
| That take the devils breath away
|
| Inside your world, world
|
| Like plastic Californ-i-a
|
| Those dirty girls, girls
|
| Are gonna have their wicked way
|
| With you
|
| With you
|
| I guess it’s just something
|
| For boys don’t like to
|
| Talk, talk, talk about
|
| Those dirty girls, girls
|
| Are gonna steal your heart away
|
| Their naughty words, words
|
| That take the devils breath away
|
| Inside your world, world
|
| Like plastic Californ-i-a
|
| Those dirty girls, girls
|
| Are gonna have their wicked way
|
| With you |