Tell us what you’re gonna do tonight, mommaThere must be some place you can goIn the middle of the tall drinks and the dramaThere must be someone you knowGod knows you’re looking good enough,But you’re so smooth, and the world’s so roughYou might have something to loseOh no, pretty momma,What you gonna do in those shoes?Got those pretty little straps around your anklesGot those shiny little chains around your heartYou got to have your independence,But you don’t know just where to startDesperation in the singles bars,And all the jerkoffs in their fancy carsYou can’t believe your reviewsOh no, you can’t do thatOnce you’ve started wearing those shoesThey’re waving at you, leaning on you,Tell you everything you wanna hearThey give you tablets of loveThey’re waiting for you, got to score you,Handy with a shovel and so sincereOoh, they got the kid glovesYou just want someone to talk to,they just wanna get their hands on youYou get whatever you chooseOh no, you can’t do thatOnce you’ve started wearing those shoesOh no, you can’t do that
Once you’ve started wearing those shoes