(There's) No Room To Rhumba In A Sports Car
(Words & music by Fred Wise - Dick Manning )
This was gonna be the night tonight
I was gonna get to hold you tight
But I guess we didn't plan it right
I never stood a chance, we couldn't dance
Cause there's, no room to rhumba in a sports car
You can't move forward or back
There's no room to do what the beat tells you to
Without throwing your spine outta wack
When a little kiss I want to steal
I hit my head against the steering wheel
Now I know the way a pretzel feels
All I can do is shout...Hey let me out!!
Cause there's, no room to rhumba in a sports car
You can't move forward or back
There's no room to do what the beat tells you to
Without throwing your spine outta wack
What a way to waste a day with you
Nothing happens that can tell the truth
Let's go out and find a telephone booth
Yeah that's a better place, I like more space
Cause there's, no room to rhumba in a sports car
You can't move forward or back
There's no room to do what the beat tells you to
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