Working Girls

D D/C# Bm G D A D D/C# Said she came from Portland Bm Where the ashen skies and leaden ocean G D A G Left her like the local boys, barren of emotion D D/C# As we talked we watched the raindrops Bm Running down the window F#m Laundromat in Darlinghurst G A Like a fish shop from the past G D And her mother called her Mary A After Mary Magdalene Bm F#m To deny her beauty G A Would have been the greatest sin G D It was a profile in the neon A D and a Kings Cross Doorway lean G D G A To half an hour of tending someone else's tangled dream D D/C# There were lines of sailors, lines of speed Bm G Lines upon the Footpath where she stared D A G When things were quiet, as night deferred to dawn D D/C# And the coke cups played red rover Bm In the breeze that scuttled through the streets F#m Taxies left for greener fields G A While Sydney stretched and yawned G D And her mother called her Mary A After Mary Magdalene Bm F#m There were virgins in the morning G A She had sisters in the pain; G D And the wives would clutch their husbands A D Perhaps they shared the shame G D G A 'cause working streets and wedding rings are sometimes much the same D D/C# Tap-danced with the buskers Bm G Near the subway shouting blues songs they remembered D A G From their teenage years of dreamtime radio D D/C# And the years withdrew behind her eyes Bm To let the little girl look out F#m In simple childish innocence G A At drawings in the sand G D And her mother called her Mary A After Mary Magdalene Bm F#m She had long dark hair and massage oil G A And a key to let you in; G D And the lines upon her face A D were maps of roads she'd travelled G D G A Lined with people throwing stones because they didn't understand G D That a half an hour of tenderness A D Perhaps they shared the shame G D G A 'cause working streets and wedding rings are sometimes much the same A G D