Rupert Holmes - The Wages of Sin lyrics

[Princess Puffer] Crime don't pay...that's what I tells 'em If it did, would I be here mixing pipes Wot then I sells 'em for a pint of rotten beer? Throats you cut to pocket tuppence Then you s*ut to cop some sleep Bash a face for bleedin' tuppence - Pure disgrace to work so cheap So I say, don't be a sinner for the price of London gin You can't pay for one square dinner with the wages of sin Sell my soul? 'Cor love, come off it! Who would buy this sack of skin? On the whole, there ain't much profit in the wages of sin I've seen girls from gutter fam'lies trap Rich men with flutt'ry ways And they coo, "Cor, pa** the jam please," Over nuptial breakfast trays Over there in bed eleven sleeps a bleedin' hypocrite Spends his days eyes cast to 'eaven; Spends his nights among this sh** (spoke) Oh oh I beg your pardon I'm sure (sung) S' why I say, don't take half-measures Do things right and dig right in In this world, there's greater treasures Than the wages of sin I get threats, but seldom offers. If I did I'd pack it in You can't fill too many coffers with the wages of sin