Every woman wants to dance br Every woman wants the chance. br br br Behind closed doors br All the fiery sexy sways, br Even thru her kitchen days, br She’ll use her pegs as castanets br As soggy towels her hands do wets. br Over fence, neighbours know they have seen, br The local show of the dancing queen, br Radio’s Rolling Stones belt out the action to br ‘I can’t get no satisfaction’, br A million hips gyrate on the table tops br As they swing and hug the upturned mops. br br Every woman wants to dance br Every woman wants the chance. br br In the shops in the office the toes do tap, br As boys outside dance the sidewalk rap, br The female face shows thoughtful glares br ‘Where on earth are the Fred Astaire’s? ’ br They want to show their legs in the Cha Cha Cha, br Even if they dance on the drinkers bar, br Woman does not need a dancing smaltz br To drag them thru the lovely waltz. br When man comes home to her alone br A surprise he secured by office phone, br Two tickets to the fireman’s ball for her desire, br They will put out her dancing fire, br br Every woman wants to dance br Every woman will, given the chance.