With her Pop Art lips and cappuccino skin
She'd tempt God from his Cross, his Holy Will would cave in
She's hot, hot as a fireball raging in a shopping mall
She made a church with her hands, hid her face inside
I washed up on her shore like junk on the tide
She's asking me stuff about Nabokov
Oh boy, that really gets me off
It was a rainy day by the reservoir
One of those days you just don't know who you are
With the toe of my boot I scrawled her name in the soil
She smelled of chewing gum and patchouli oil
There was a seagull tracking us overhead
She said, "Why can't we just be friends instead?"
And she smiled and licked the rain from her lips
And my heart went as dark as a total eclipse
So we barely spoke as I drove her home
She took a couple of calls from her mobile phone
There was a chartbreaker pumping from the radio
She had a beauty spot like Marilyn Monroe
When I dropped her off she pecked me on the cheek
I watched her disappear into some boutique
She just looked so amazing in her bell-bottomed jeans
There was this man she'd met she said from Milton Keynes
It's like God's posse of angels just swept by on a cloud
Just to give me the Finger, just to jerk me around
I'm strung out in the lights of a black Mercedes Benz
There's so many street signs pointing to so many dead ends
The weatherman promised a deep blue sky
Aww, guess it was only a lie

Lyrics submitted by BleedorBreathe

With Her Pop Art Lips and Cappuccino Skin song meanings
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