Arctic Monkeys

Stop making the eyes at me, I'll stop making the eyes at you
And what it is that surprises me, is that I don't really want you to
And your shoulders are frozen, cold as the night
Over you're an explosion, you’re dynamite
Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand
Lighting the fuse might result in a bang

I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
I don't know if you’re looking for romance or...
I don't know what you’re looking for
I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984

I wish you'd stop ignoring me, because you're sending me to despair
Without a sound you’re calling me, and I don't think it's very fair
That your shoulders are frozen, cold as the night
Oh you’re an explosion, you’re dynamite
Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand
Lighting the fuse might result in a bang

Oh there int no love no, Montague’s or Capulets
Just banging tunes in DJ sets and
Dirty dancefloors and dreams of naughtiness