Shes the face on the radio, shes the body on the morning show
Shes there shaking it out on the scene, shes the colour of a magazine
Shes in fashion, shes in fashion,

Shes employed where the sun dont set and shes the shape of a cigarette,
And shes the shake of a tambourine and shes the colour of a magazine
Shes in fashion, shes in fashion

Oh and if she tells you 2 is 1 then 2 is 1 my love,
Oh and if she tells you you should know, then you should know my love,

She is strung out on a tv dream, and shes the taste of gasoline,
And shes as similar as you can get to the shape of a cigarette
And shes in fashion

(and the sunshine it blows my mind, and the wind blows my brain)

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