Platinum blonde is going to get in the train, Tearing her eyes off the dirt dusky plain. You might get in if you could tear off the dress, sipping your tea on the China Express.
Jean Harlow, Jean Harlow, Jean Harlow, Platinum Blonde.
The shadow blonde hair, watch it catch in the wind. Bern wore a hat so he could get it in. Now the poor sap lies dead on the rug, Hot shallow mat for a glamorous thug.