When the only sound on the empty street
Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet
That belong to a lonesome cop
I open shop
When the moon so long has been gazing down
On the wayward ways of this wayward town
That her smile becomes a smirk
I go to work
Love for sale
Appetizing, young love for sale.
Love that's fresh and still unspoiled.
Love that's only slighty soiled.
Love for sale.
Who will buy?
Who will like to sample my supply?
Who's prepared to pay the price
For a trip to paradise?
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