Richard O’Brien
One Hundred Dollars An Hour
The low autumn sun of the late afternoon
Brings sweet heaven's fire and desire to the room
You hold me so gently, our hearts intertwine
And for one hundred dollars an hour
Or part thereof
You're mine

Still running from life and hiding from death
I lay here beside you, your touch stays my breath
If this is illicit, we're partners in crime
And for one hundred dollars an hour
Or part thereof
You're mine

You're every woman, you're every girl
That I've ever known
The Moon, the Earth, the waters
Eve's eternal daughters, my cornerstone
I bring my hunger to your shrine
And for one hundred dollars an hour
Or part thereof
You're mine

So cool this fool's fire that rages within
And we'll both disengage from the wages of sin
Sweet goddess of healing, the artistry's thine
And for one hundred dollars an hour
One hundred dollars an hour
And for one hundred dollars an hour
Or part thereof
You're mine