The Look - Eve St. Jones

Walking like a man,

hitting like a hammer,

she’s a juvenile scam.

Never was a quitter,

tasty like a raindrop,

she’s got the look.

Heavenly bound

cause heaven’s got a number

when she’s spinning me around,

Kissing is a colour,

her loving is a wild dog,

she’s got the look.

She’s got the look.

She’s got the look.

What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue.

When everything I’ll ever do I’ll do for you

and I go: la la la la la she’s got the look.

Fire in the ice,

naked to the T-bone

is a lover’s disguise.

Banging on the head drum,

shaking like a mad bull,

she’s got the look.

Swaying to the band,

moving like a hammer,

she’s a miracle man.

Loving is the ocean,

Kissing is the wet sand,

she’s got the look.

And she goes:

na na na na na na na na