Happy hour, two for one,
This is how we have our fun,
Make up sorted, dresses new,
Shoes supplied by Jimmy Choo,
Perfect perfume, perfect tan,
Now all we need's the perfect man.
Hit the town at half past seven,
Then hit the floor around eleven,
Dance to music thumping loud,
Lose yourself within the crowd,
Let your worries swirl away,
Forget the work of yesterday,
Forget the things you have to buy,
Forget harsh words that made you cry,
Remember how you felt when you,
Were eighteen and all this was new.
Drink on now 'til we turn back time,
Our vodka fuelled dance feels sublime,
Those dancing feet stamp out the stress,
And each girl feels a dream princess,
For one night only we can star,
In our own film, here in this bar.