Well you've got your diamonds and you've got your pretty
clothes,
And the chauffeur drives your car.
You let ev'rybody know, but don't play with me,
'Cause you're playing with fire.
Your mother she's an heiress, owns a block in Saint
John's Wood,
And your father'd be there with her.
If he only could, but don't play with me.
'Cause you're playing with fire.
Your old man took her diamonds and tiaras by the score,
Now she gets her kicks in Stepney, not in Knightsbridge
anymore;
So don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire.
Now you've got some diamonds and you will have some
others;
But you'd better watch your step, girl,
Or start living with your mother;
So don't play with me,
'Cause you're playing with fire.