Your fashion sense is so intense,
Your short skirt makes me look twice.
Your pouting lips and your slender hips,
Excite my underwear.

Your friends all look just the same,
I bet Dorothy Perkins is happy.
Your hairsprayed hair and sensual stare,
Entice me to take you with me.

But when I look beneath your naked skin,
All I see is a place where other men have been.
Penelope Perfume, looks so sweet.
Penelope perfume, she's a piece of meat.
Penelope Perfume, Penelope Perfume.

Your mind is full of wishful thoughts,
You just need a friend for all time.
You treat yourself like a piece of dirt,
I'm glad to say you're not mine.

But when I look beneath your made-up face,
All I see is a brain that's an absolute disgrace.
Penelope Perfume, thinks she's cool.
Penelope Perfume, she's such a fool.
Penelope Perfume, Penelope Perfume.

(Envelop me, Penelope, Penelope envelop me.)

You walk the streets, day in day out,
For a little bit of extra money.
You cry yourself to sleep at night,
Your friends all think it's funny.

But as I look into your tearstained eyes,
All I see is a life full of childish lies.
Penelope Perfume, can't get paid.
Penelope Perfume, she's got AIDS.
Penelope Perfume, Penelope Perfume.

© Edward ian Armchair 2002