Pink Shack Blues - Marc Almond, The Willing Sinners

There’s a colour TV in the pink shack

But the paint’s peelin' off the walls

Take a sneaky photo by the pink shack

In a pair of muddy overalls

Pay a ragged dollar for my snapshot mister

Put a big grin on my face

Call «Hey, Sonny!»

from your door, Chiquita

If the colour isn’t to your taste

She’s callin' out to me

Now she’s bawlin' out to me

And she’s singin' right out of key

«Oh, lover man where can you be?»

Lost little orphans on the roadside

On the steps of the Roach Motel

Little faces flicker in the go-go neon

Seems they’ve got something to sell

Take my photograph for a dollar mister

Up against the pink shack wall

Call «Hey, Sonny!»

from your door Chiquita

Throw tequila kisses to us all

She’s callin' out to me

And it’s only half past three

She’s callin' out to me

«Lover man where can you be?»

She’s callin' out to me

Now she’s bawlin' out to me

And she’s singin' right out of key

«Oh, lover man where can you be?»

There’s room enough for two in the pink shack

With a black rat on my knee

Backroom tequila in the bathroom

And a soapbox colour TV

Cockroaches crawlin' round the pink shack

But please don’t crawl on me

Five in a bed in the pink shack

But there’s really only room for three

She’s callin' out to me

And it’s only half past three

And she’s singin' right out of key

«Oh, lover man where can you be?»

She’s calling out to me

And she’s bawling out to me

And she’s singing right out of key

«Oh, lover man where can you be»

«Oh, lover man where can you be»