Crash The Party

You＇re not the prettiest girl in town,

and I＇m not the only boy

with solid clothes and a solemn frown,

so to hell with Valentine＇s,

to hell with perfume,

to hell with chocolates

and picnics

and Sinatra tunes.

＇Cause while the rest of the girls

are drowning in roses

and songs he composes,

and while the rest of the guys

are all trying so hard,

oh girl, let＇s crash the party.

El Dorado on the lawn （hey hey hey!）.

Let＇s burn holes in the carpets,

kicking, shouting, dancing,

on the tables all night long.

I＇m not so good with sublety.

You wouldn＇t say that I＇m the

picture of urbanity.

Never put much stock in suavity

or courtesy or chivalry or gallantry

or all that useless jewelry.

But while the rest of the girls

still sigh for the night

he was smiling politely,

and while the rest of the guys

are all trying so hard,

oh girl, let＇s crash the party.

El Dorado on the lawn （hey hey hey!）.

Let＇s burn holes in the carpets,

kicking, shouting, dancing

on the tables all night long.

All night long.