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