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Lyrics

Lyrics & Music by Bruce Blackman
 
Please, can’t you see what you do to me
Your curves get my nerves, gonna’ be the death of me
‘Cause you’re working my heart right down to the bone
Like you’re picking on a chicken, no worries of your own
Gotta’ call you up on the telephone
Working my heart to the bone
 
Worms ain’t concerned with what you do to me
You cook by the book and you put a spell on me
‘Cause you’re working my heart right down to the bone
Like you’re picking on a chicken, no worries of your own
Gotta’ call you up on the telephone
Working my heart to the bone
 
You’ve got the moves to work on me
So why don’t try and sample me
‘Cause you’re working my heart right down to the bone
Like you’re picking on a chicken, no worries of your own
Gotta’ call you up on the telephone
Working my heart to the bone
 
Working my heart right down to the bone
Like you’re picking on a chicken no worries of your own
Gotta' call you up on the telehone