Living On Borrowed Time

 

She checks her looks

in the rearview-mirrors

of the cars parked in line

rain or shine day or night

she’ll be standing at the corners

of the street

 

And she can tell

by the sound of an engine

if that car’s gonna stop

and it takes just one minute

to name her price

and tell the driver where to go

 

But how long can she go on like this?

living her life on the streets?

selling her body cheaply

to ev’ry lowdown creep

 

She’s always wearing long sleeve T-shirts

to hide the needle-marks

she has to put on heavy make up

to hide the sores, the bruises and the scars

 

But underneath the neon-lights

where red is grey and yellow white

nothing seems to matter anymore

ev’ry day that passes

brings her closer to that dark abyss

‘cause she’s been living on borrowed time