In the morning

In the morning

It is raining

And umbrellas block the pavement

In the café

People waking

With a cigarette and coffee

And she sits there with her paper

Half asleep into a picture

In the morning

In the morning

It's all over

That's another night of business

With the punters

On the corner

Of estates around the river

And she adds up all the takings

Hid behind her wilting paper

In the morning

In the morning

Soaked in bath oil

Dressed in pink towels

And a sweater

Looking out at all the people

Walking under their umbrellas

In the morning

There's a feeling

Of resentment and expectance

It's a fear that comes with working

On the dark streets for a living

She's attending

To her wet hair

At the window in the evening

Getting ready in a short skirt

With her stockings around her ankles

It's a flame that gets attention

In a darkness without light

And the children need a cuddle

As she walks into the light

Of the morning