| A vision in white |
| Lit up the night |
| A girl more or less |
| But usually more |
| A street whore |
| A sweet whore |
| A girl who would be your fantasy |
| Come again still no reality |
| But in her eyes no surprise |
| What money might buy |
| There was a young boy |
| A beuteous thing |
| Whose revenge cut the night |
| And he’d lick the blade clean |
| A sweet boy |
| A street boy |
| The boy who would be your sweet fuck |
| Yeah, the boy who would always bring you luck |
| The boy who hates you so |
| You’d better make love slow |
| 'Cause you don’t know |
| What money might buy |
| And you think it’s o. k |
| 'Cause you leave when you pay |
| And you pay for what you need |
| And God knows you needed it |
| And the streets will go on |
| And you can go home |
| And no one will know |
| Ah, ain’t that the beauty of it |
| Ain’t it sweet |
| What money might buy |
| On the lips of a kiss |
| Poisoned with bliss |
| A child looks good |
| Dressed up like this |
| A sweet kid |
| A street kid |
| A kid that could be your very own |
| You’d better check to see |
| Who’s left at home |
| But they might lie |
| Don’t be surprised |
| What money might buy |
| Very nice, kind of lights up your eyes |
| What money might buy |
| Almost makes you cry |
| What money might buy |
| Surprise, surprise |
| What money might buy |
| It’s suicide |