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These are danogutierrez's notes on Play With Fire by Rolling Stones.

[1]

Well, you've got your diamonds
and you've got your pretty clothes
And the chauffeur drives your car
You let everybody 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

So don't you play with me,
'cause you're playing with fire

[1] Washing the dishes, drinking bourbon, in a tree house in San Francisco.