There was a time, now very far away
When we set up together, I and she
I had the brains, and she supplied the breast
I did her right, and she supported me
A way of life then, if not quite the best.
And when a client came I'd climb out of our bed
And treat him nice, and go and have a drink instead.
When he paid up I would address him: "Sir
Come any time you feel you fancy her."
That time's gone past, but what would I not give
To see that whorehouse where we used to live?
That was the time, now very far away
He was so sweet he bashed me where it hurt.
And when the cash ran out the feathers really flew
He'd up and say: I'm going to pawn your skirt.
A skirt is nice, but no skirt is OK too.
He had his cheek, he kept me locked away all day
But came the night he brought acquaintances to play.
If I'd object he'd knock me headlong down the stairs
I had the bruises off and on for years.
That time's gone past, but what would I not give
To see that whorehouse where we used to live?
That was a time now very far away
Not that our state seems much improved today
When afternoons were all I had for you
I told you she was generally booked up
(The night's more normal, but daytime will do)
Once I was pregnant, so the doctor said
So we reversed positions on the bed
You thought your weight would make it premature
But in the end we flushed it down the sewer
That could not last, but what would I not give
To see that whorehouse where we used to live?