Ella Fitzgerald

When the only sound in the empty street,
Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet
That belong to a lonesome cop
I open shop.
When the moon so long has been gazing down
On the wayward ways of this wayward town.
That her smile becomes a smirk,
I go to work.
Love for sale,
Appetising young love for sale.
Love thats fresh and still unspoiled,
Love thats only slightly soiled,
Love for sale.
Who will buy?
Who would like to sample my supply?
Whos prepared to pay the price,