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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 slut 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,
pass
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-
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.
- Album:
- All Of Me
- Miscellaneous
- Golden Lady (Original Recordings Remastered)
- Once Upon A Time
- A Lover and His Lass
- The Jazz Collection 1955-1962
- My One and Only Love
- I Love Music
- Love Is Here to Stay
- Best Of
- Great Classics
- Mad About the Boy
- Jazz Cafe - 100 Smooth Favourites
- Gold - Jazz Divas
- Greatest Jazz Divas
- That Fifties Flavour Vol 41
- Hit the Road to Dreamland
- 25 Golden Greats
- Classic Years
- Stormy Weather