In this terrace street,
This drab two up two down,
You may not have noticed,
In this cold nothing town.
The flow of faceless men,
Coming through the door,
Waiting in the front room,
To visit on my upper floor.
This is my hell home,
This is my unbarred cage,
I dare not think to leave,
But to suffer again their rage.
Brought here on a false promise,
The glamorous modelling fell short,
Threatened, beaten and raped,
I earn back the value of my passport.
My debts are ever rising,
Yet my service is repeatedly sold,
An asset of ever depreciation,
Are the blatant lies that I am told.
I speak so little English,
Only the phrases I am given,
To please my endless clients,
Return fares are always striven.
Where could I ever go?
Even If I could find the will,
I shall be sent to prison,
And then they\'d kill me still.
So remember me,
As you are free walking by,
The men are not my friends,
I am here for them to buy.