Pasties and a G-String

Smelling like a brewery, looking like a tramp,

I ain't got a quarter, got a postage stamp

Been five o'clock shadow boxing all around the town,

Talking with the old man, sleeping on the ground

Bazanti bootin al zootin al hoot and Al Cohn

Sharing this apartment with a telephone pole

And a fish-net stocking, spike-heel shoes,

Strip tease, prick tease, car keys blues

And the porno floor show, live nude girls,

Dreamy and creamy and brunette curls

Chesty Morgan and Watermelon Rose

Raise my rent and take off all your clothes

With trench coats, magazines, a bottle full of rum,

She's so good, make a dead man come

Pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot

Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze

Wrinkles and Cherry and Twinkie and Pinkie and Fifi live from Gay Paree

Fanfares, rim shots, back stage, who cares, all this hot burlesque for me

(scat)

Cleavage, cleavage, thighs and hips

From the nape of her neck to the lipstick lips

Chopped and channeled and lowered and lewd

And the cheater slicks and baby moons

She's a-hot and ready, creamy and sugared

And the band is awful and so are the tunes

(scat)

Crawling on her belly, and shaking like jelly,

And I'm getting harder than Chinese algebrassieres

And cheers from the (hmm) compendium here

"Hey sweetheart" they're yelling for more

You're squashing out your cigarette butts on the floor

And I like Shelly, and you like Jane

And what was the girl with the snakeskin's name?

And it's an early-bird matinee, come back any day,

Get you a little something that you can't get at home

Get you a little something that you can't get at home

It's pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot

Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze

Popcorn, front row, higher than a kite, and I'll be back tomorrow night,

And I'll be back tomorrow night

(scat)