The prostitute is beautiful
On the street corner over there
To look for a little dream
He's a strange little guy
Who knows how to play the java
She doesn't even look at the dance floor
Follow the nervous playing
And the artist's long, dry fingers
She's a real music freak
On the street corner over there
He's gone off to be a soldier
When he comes back from the war
How beautiful life will be
And every evening for her
That she hums very softly
She pictures her accordionist
Follow the nervous playing
And the artist's long, dry fingers
She's a real music freak
On the street corner over there
And too bad if she croaks
Her man will never come back
Goodbye to all the beautiful dreams
Where there's another artist
And the dry, nervous fingers
She started to dance, to spin
To the sound of the music