That mischievous impish grin he's wearing,
makes you wanna stop and start A-staring.
He's got no demise by what he's wearing,
there's no surprise where he is going.

Purple stripes, a little tight
faded blue jeans baited me in.
The gait is right,
the face has might,
that *** is tight.

He's feeling the moves,
he's got the grooves.
Little lady's right,
She's gotta sit tight.

Come away awhile,
let's play for miles.
The star's are out,
start tonight.

Who am I kidding?
It's a fright,
his posture's just right.
So don't start a fight!

The movement betray's the purpose displayed,
with manners and sounds,
this man never frowns.
He thinks like a King, drinks gin with a ring.

Sound the alarm,
call off the throng,
I am here, no fear.
It's give or take at any rate.