This song was inspired by a documentary program I watched back in my Puffton Village days in Amherst, MA. The program followed the lives of a few teenage girl runaways aways who were lured into a life of prostitution in order to survive life on the streets in Los Angeles and NYC. I love the melody to this song, it’s very catchy and always performed well on stage.
Midnight, backstreet, got to find a phone or they’ll be Hell to pay.
In her, pocket, white-collared man’s bills she too ashamed to …
Count how many times she’s earned them … no thank you’s they just roll over.
Her nights know more than words can say, don’t ask why tomorrow never speaks … of them, they’re all she’s scared to be.
She’s lost to be in love, yeah. She’s lost to be in love, yeah. Oh ….
Visions fill her head and fade as they begin to paint … somewhere, better for her … than
Lying every way she’s learned the ropes so well she can untie her own knots.
Beginning with the first time, she wakes with bruises up and down her legs … that she spreads for dough.
No, no – oh (CHORUS)
There’s something about her. About the place she comes from. They love her and they’re searching hard …
And they will never let go … no, oh … no, no no. (CHORUS to end)
Written by B.W. Gibson (Brian Gibson) November 1998