She was digging gold in the big city
had a satin dress on looked so pretty
but her spiked heels don’t leave no impression
in the concrete poured in the Great Depression

Gets her taste from magazines,
romance novels, and movie screens

She sits behind bulletproof glass
smiles at the men as they go past
but the poor boys who vie for her time
well she hands them nickels, hands them dimes

She gets her taste from magazines,
romance novels, and movie screens

And she thinks she knows the score
always leave them
always leave them wanting more

She was digging gold in the big city
had a satin dress on looked so pretty
but her spiked heels don’t leave no impression
in the concrete poured in the Great Depression

She gets her taste from magazines,
romance novels, and movie screens

And she thinks she knows the score
always leave them
always leave them wanting more
always leave them, always leave them
always leave them wanting more
wanting more, wanting more
She was digging gold in the big city