On the 60 north headed towards the train
She talks loudly on a cellular phone
How are some so socially inept?
The bus driver keeps calling out the stops
She says, "Baby, hey I've got to go."
Hangs up and the air smooths out
She sits writhing, restless with a ghost
The killer and his black friend get onboard
The killer beckons, "Hey you! Come here."
She does without protest, she knows the score
And his black friend prods her with a growl
She opens up to their passwords
The killer beckons, "Hey you! Come here."
She does without protest, she knows the score
And his black friend prods her with a growl
Then we hear music, Oh sweet music
The notes of a tramp transaction
Music, Oh oh sweet music
The notes of a tramp transaction
Music, Oh oh sweet music
The notes of a tramp transaction
Music, Oh oh sweet music
The notes of a tramp transaction
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music
Music, Oh oh sweet music