Text: Kim Wilde. 2-6-5-8-0.

I watch a man sitting down by the park:
the flashy suit manufactured by the makers.
He's got a pen and he circles an ad.
It makes him laugh 'cause he's reading dirty papers.

2-6-5-8-0

She doesn't know it but she's getting his call
He's too constrained but he wants it in a strange way.
She comes her hair; doesn't worry at all.
He could be mad but he's just another payday.

2-6-5-8-0
2-6-5-8-0
2-6-5-8-0
Oh, dial it if you want to know me.

She likes to live on the poor side of town.
She's shacking down with a guy West Guiana.
The boys around always look at the ground.
Oh, what they'd give for a night with that piranha.

2-6-5-8-0
2-6-5-8-0
2-6-5-8-0
Oh, dial it if you want to know me.

She doesn't have to make her money that way, she's such a pretty young girl.
I guess they love it 'cause you hear when they stay, they're crying, "Oh, oh, oh."

This guy arrives looking scared as a rat.
He needs her love but he wants it like a brother.
Three hours later he crawls out on his knees.
She's laughing loud 'cause he's calling for his mother.

2-6-5-8-0
2-6-5-8-0
2-6-5-8-0
Oh, dial if you want to know me.

2-6-5-8-0
(What's the number?)
2-6-5-8-0
(Oh, I gotta get it, now.)
2-6-5-8-0
Oh, dial it if you want to know me.