One Hundred Dollars An Hour - Richard O'Brien

The low autumn sun of the late afternoon

Brings sweet heaven’s fire and desire to the room

You hold me so gently our hearts intertwine

And for one hundred dollars an hour

or part thereof — you’re mine

Still running from life and hiding from death

I lay here beside you, your touch stays my breath

If this is illicit we’re partners in crime

And for one hundred dollars an hour

Or part thereof — you’re mine

You’re every woman — You’re every girl

That I’ve ever known

The moon the earth the waters

Eve’s eternal daughters, my corner stone

I bring my hunger to your shrine

And for one hundred dollars an hour

Or part thereof — you’re mine

So cool this fool’s fire that rages within

And we’ll both disengage from the wages of sin

Sweet goddess of healing the artistry’s thine

And for one hundred dollars an hour

Or part thereof — you’re mine

And for one hundred dollars an hour

or part thereof — you’re mine