Our love was new,
But your bedsprings were old.
In the flat below,
They stopped eating with forks in the air.
They made the old sourpuss
Climb the stairs
And squint through the keyhole,
While we went right ahead
Making the springs toot,
Playing Low down on the Bayou,
Playing Big Leg Mama,
Playing Shake It Baby
And Carolina Shout.
That was the limit!
They called the fire brigade.
They called the Law.
They could have brought some hooch,
We told the cops.

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