Oh Me, Oh My, Sweet Baby
She crawls into sight
Her skin is cold china white
She's a dark angel wearing dark glasses
Dark shadows under long false lashes
The night exposes the cracks
She wears her makeup like wax
To hide every scratch
'Cause she a dark angel riding dark horses
Sitting pretty in her dim lit covers ... I say
Black cars look better in the shade
She smears her lipstick on right before she sleeps
For all those phantom lovers in her dreams
She smokes them french cigarettes
In cocktail gloves and a strapless dress
She cuts a per
Miss Emma Peel
I come home late at night
On the floor to turn you on
I check for tint and Technicolor
After you there is no other
Your brown hair is my connection
Connects my resurrection
And everyone else is just a harlot
A Star Search spokes model starlet
Miss Emma Peel
Black boots kick high at his face
One last look at the grace of
Miss Emma Peel
Catch the curve of your leather heel
Before he blacks out
That's another one down for
Miss Emma Peel
I sit beside her in the evening
And watch her rerun secrets by my ears
Cat eyes watch with British humor
Cause she's a mod-feel sixties savior
Your brown hair is my connection
Connects my resurrection
And everyone else is just a harlot
A Star Search spokes model starlet
Miss Emma Peel
Black boots kick high at his face
One last look at the grace of
Miss Emma Peel
Catch the curve of your leather heel
Before he blacks out
That's another one down for
For Miss Emma Peel
For Miss Emma Peel
For Miss Emma Peel
For Miss Emma Peel