Desdemona just because,
You're the daughter of a man.
He may be rich he's in a ditch.
He does not understand,
Just how to move or rock and roll,
To the conventions of the young.
Desdemona, Desdemona,
Desdemona, Desdemona,
Desdemona, Desdemona.
Lift up your skirt and fly.
Just because my friend and I,
Got a jute joint by the Seine.
Does not mean I'm past fourteen
And cannot play the game.
I'm glad I split and got a pad,
On Boulevard Rue Fourteen.
Desdemona, Desdemona,
Desdemona, Desdemona,
Desdemona, Desdemona.
Lift up your skirt and fly.
Just because Toulouse Lautrec,
Painted some chick in the rude.
Doesn't give you the right,
To steal my night
And leave me naked in the nude.
Oh, just because the touch of your hand,
Can turn me on just like a stick.
Desdemona,Desdemona,
Desdemona Desdemona,
Desdemona,Desdemona.
Lift up your skirt and speak.
Writer(s): Marc Bolan
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