Featured In
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Girls Aloud
Vocals
Xenomania
Keyboards
Tim Powell
Programming
Shawn Lee
Guitar
Nick Coler
Guitar
Nicola Roberts
Vocals
Nadine Coyle
Vocals
Kimberley Walsh
Vocals
Sarah Harding
Vocals
Cheryl
Vocals
peblab
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Xenomania
Composer
Tim Powell
Composer
Shawn Lee
Songwriter
Miranda Cooper
Composer
Lisa Cowling
Composer
Hans Weekout
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Xenomania
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fistful of love that's comin' your way, baby
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fistful of love that's comin' your way, baby
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fistful of love that's comin' your way, baby
I'm hangin' on a wire
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fistful of love that's comin' your way, baby
[Verse 2]
Come, baby, come, you know what I mean
And the drum beat's risin' higher
Bang goes my self-control
I got your name on my face, your face on my mind, baby
Come, baby, come, graffiti my soul
[Verse 3]
We should be gettin' it on
Fly DJ's playin' my song
Why don't you take me head on?
We should be gettin' somewhere
Some kind of cool love affair
Don't act as if you don't care
You dream of touchin' me there
[Verse 4]
Your kisses taste of Cyanide
And that's no good for me
An open heart is suicide
In my philosophy
I need a walkin', talkin' mannequin
That simply folds away
And never questions anything I've got to say
[Verse 5]
N-n-n-n-n-n-no more explanations
You're never gonna know
You could k-k-k-k-kill my reputation
I don't do heavy loads
N-n-n-n-n-n-no more conversations
You c-c-c-c-can't carve up the world
It's a d-d-d-d-dangerous occupation
Talking to a girl
[Verse 6]
I'm complicated
And I celebrate it
You're getting jaded
But you're fascinated
[Verse 7]
I'm complicated (Out of the bedroom, down the stairs)
And I celebrate it (Along the carpet, no one cares)
You tell me I hate it (On the table, onto the floor)
But you're fascinated (It's procreation and nothing more)
[Verse 8]
D-d-d-d-dance if you want, till the dirty is done
'Cause we're stars in the dead of the night
But if you're looking for romance or a chance to reflect in the sun
Baby, I'm gonna put up a fight
And you can d-d-d-d-dance if you want till you fall out of space
And you crash in the back of the car
But if you wanna have the kids and the cash, then get out of my face
Don't push my love too far
[Verse 9]
I'm hangin' on a wire
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fistful of love that's comin' your way, baby
Come, baby, come, you know what I mean
And the drum beat's risin' higher
Bang goes my self-control
I got your name on my face, your face on my mind, baby
Baby, come, baby, come, graffiti my soul
Baby, come, baby, come, graffiti my soul
Baby, come, baby, come, graffiti my soul
And the drum beat's risin' higher
Bang goes my self-control
I got your name on my face, your face on my mind, baby
Baby, come, baby, come, graffiti my soul
Written by: Edward Boellaard, Ferry Ridderhof, Hans Weekout, Lisa Cowling, Miranda Cooper, Peter Garnefski, Shawn Lee, Tim Powell, Xenomania, peblab