To Saturday Night
For Saturday night's disco we dressed to kill,
ready to preen and shine
in pink stilettos and layers of lace -
we felt so femininely divine.
The beehive hairdo smoothed to perfection,
lips a soft peachy, kissable pink,
and ten denier black nylons,
making those handsome boys readily wink!
Some were delightful to dance with,
others had two left feet,
but one had to suffer them gladly
if you wanted to leave your seat.
Rock an' Roll, the Twist, the Locomotion,
were the favourites of those youthful days,
and the smoochy waltz, when cheek to cheek
we shyly danced the night away.
Politeness ruled the evening,
and courtesy was really great;
someone always offering a lift back home,
if the disco went on real late.
Gone are those days of real femininity,
when boys were debonair and bold -
so romantic it was back then,
when you had a strong, gentle hand to hold.
Ode to Saturday Night Discos