Rolling to the arcade on my Pyscho-stick,
Hoping that I can be your arcade chick.
The neon in your hair, the soft, blue light on your face,
And your cute little stance all make me hit hyperspace.
When you play Centipede I can't think at all.
You make my head spin when you roll that trackball.
I just go ape when you play Donkey Kong.
The way I'm dig-dugging you can't be wrong.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've got me bouncing up and down like I was Q*Bert.
I'm running into walls like I'm going Berzerk.
You play Dragon's Lair. I know you're a big spender.
I'll be your Ms. Pac-Man if you'll be my Defender.
Take my button hand. We'll reach the level up screen.
Even with the silver ball you can tilt my machine.
Hey, is that a roll of quarters in your pocket?
Come on, whip it out and, baby, we can rock it.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.
You've reached the kill screen of my heart.