Lletres: The Felice Brothers. Helen Fry.

:
Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
Six foot two, hair of blonde, eyes of blue
She, she seems to think, that the devil's dressed in pink,
but I can't gracefully agree
Oh, stormy Russian, stay a while with me

Houston Doll, there's a Russian in in your car
I can't be sure, I think I seen that Russian man before
Oh he, he seems to believe, that love is all you need
How could I ever take his place?
Oh, stormy Russian, won't you look me in the face?

Aunt Louise, there's a doctor in the trees
A stethoscope, bitter lies the hangman's rope
Oh he, he seems to know, somethin' I don't know
Concernin' my lover's whereabouts
OH, stormy doctor, everybody has their doubts

Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
AAAAh, Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
AAAAAh, Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise
Helen Fry, she's a master of disguise

(Thanks to Felice Brothers for these lyrics)