Texty
1-2-3-4
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.