Working on the late shift,
Pull a chair up to the table,
Have to look the other way.
What kind of place am I in?
And who's this over here?
Shaking through the silver bubbles
Climbing through my beer.
Of a working girl undressed to kill?
Staring through the smoke haze,
Plaid shirts in the night.
Well, I'm making sure that everything
Who's that jumping on the table?
Of a working girl undressed to kill?
She could have been sweet seventeen.
There again, well, so could I.
There was a tear drop sparkle
On the inside of her thigh.
Going to fetch myself a cold beer.
Find some place to touch down.
Of a working girl all undressed to kill?
Last one out is a cold duck.
I wait outside, my motor running
Got a warm dream to unload.
Can I face her in the sunshine?
In the harsh real light of day?
She walks out with recognition
Of a working girl undressed to kill.