Candlelight, hide my face inside the night,
Of south Chicago winter rain.
And I can see her on the street again.
She's selling her body to the lonely men
But I know that once a week she will be mine.
And she says "Worry you not, your Mama's home,
don't be afraid of the dark you're not alone
and I will take you to the stars and make your heart sing."
And maybe she ain't no Juliet but in this life you gotta take what you get
And I can sleep well in her arms until the morning.
And maybe I ain't no Romeo, but money talks and her business is slow
And I she can drink away the pain...in the morning.
And as she sleeps, late at night I hear her weep
And talk of things that may have been.
"What happened to my family? The happy little girl that I used to be?
And my swing-set in the yard... in the summer.
And there's no one who's in love with me, no house in the country or by the
I guess dreams can face away hen we're not looking.
She wonders why her world consists of alley cats and lies
And apparitions from the city.
And as the sunbeams reach her bleach-blond head,
She gathers her clothing at the foot of the bed
She pulls her stockings on to face the morning.
And as I hear her footsteps on the empty stairs
I can tell that the pain is almost too much to bear.
But I smile 'cause she'll some back...and I'll be waiting.