Took a look around.
Chewed up the gauntlet, spat it out.
Raised them to the ground.
Scorpio rising
Scorpio rising
Scorpio rising
Scropio rising
Four young men, greasy hair,
Don't know zip.
Leather jackets, big packets,
Into it, into it.
Knock 'em dead sweetie, then sock four.
My body, cha-cha, and orf.
Four young men on big bad bikes.
Ben Hur daddy argent!
Give me a flash of white, white skin.
Above the stocking part.
Cool it with the jewels, appreciate
The world finest work of art.
Four young men a-come through hot.
The last of the moccasins.
Don't sit around with their chi-chi friends
And talk.....
Adam Ant and Marco Pirroni