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Old Soho

This song is by Murray Head and appears on the album Voices (1981).

The night was raining down
On neon streets of old Soho.
Our 'macs' were buttoned tight,
We'd just been to a show.
Those glossy pictures,
Revealing much but never all;
The real thing was within, they said
"Come in and have a ball".
The girls were tired,
And not the same as the pictures on the wall.
While ladies beckoned us,
And each would tell her sorry tale;
Some promise in the rain,
Of an experience gone stale;
No better than a fruit machine,
With jackpot gone, and parts for sale.
Meanwhile on the sidewalk,
A man lay spilling out his life.
He spat on civil pity,
Wanted money and not a wife.
Then he suddenly took out a knife,
A car went by and splashed us all -
I heard that doorman call,
"Come in and have a ball".
The hookers, the bookers,
The jaded onlookers;
The search of the lonely for a billboard sky.
The streetwalk, the sleepwalk,
The fast and the loose talk;
It's a business doing pleasure,
With the meek and the shy.
There are sometimes - Don't you wish
Don't you wish that you'd never come.
I wish I could turn,
I could turn on my heels,
And run from the look in their eyes.
There was no element of surprise.
Just that look of submission,
An open admission,
That shows a decision to live their life this way.
The hookers, the bookers,
The jaded onlookers;
The search of the lonely for a billboard sky.
The streetwalk, the sleepwalk,
The fast and the loose talk;
It's a business doing pleasure,
With the meek and the shy.

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