(R. Stewart J.Cregan K.Savigar). I met her in a little French cafe. Legs like a young giraffe. She was sitting reading Baudelaire. Not exactly working class. She had a studio in St. Michel. Crucifix around her waist. Che Guevara all over the wall. She can't stand the sun on her face. Hey boys what a look. Stop a train at fifty feet. Matching hair matching clothes and eyes. Kinda like a tiger in heat. Red hot in black. Red hot in black. Revolution running through her veins. A radical from head to toe. The only record that she ever played. Was "just like a rolling stone". We started talking by the candlelight. Her lips get closer to mine. We started dancing all around the room. Helped by a bottle of wine. Hey boys mystery. Didn't even know her name. One night in Paris with a girl like that. Never going home again. Red hot in black. Red hot in black. Oh my when I woke up. She'd already gone out to her work. My head was aching and my back was scratched. I've never never never known a night like that. Took a walk along the avenue. So in love and so confused. My plane was leaving in half an hour. What would you have done in my shoes?. Hey boys so you see. Couldn't get her outa my head. My regards to the folks back home. Gonna spend some time with red. Red hot in black. Red hot in black.