Sweet Lucy was a dancer. But none of us would chance her. Because she was a Samurai. She made electric shadows. Beyond our fingertips. And none of us could reach that high. She came on like a teaser. I had to touch and please her. Enjoy a little paradise. The log was in my pocket. When Lucy met the Rockett. And she never knew the reason why. I can't deny it. With that smile on her face. It's not the kill. It's the thrill of the chase. Feel it coming. It's knocking at the door. You know it's no good running. It's not against the law. The point of no return. And now you know the score. And now you're learning. What's knockin' at your back door. Sweet Nancy was so fancy. To get into her pantry. Had to be the aristocracy. The members that she toyed with. At her city club. Were something in diplomacy. So we put her on the hit list. Of a common cunning linguist. A master of many tongues. And now she eases gently. From her Austin to her Bentley. Suddenly she feels so young