Plenty More

They may walk hand in hand Like lovers through the market square Selecting leather goods, Pretending that they just don't care They say all the boys are monsters All the girls are whores So when you lose the one you love There's always plenty more They may be in a club All dressed up waiting to meet you Or in some garret bleak Despairing over what to do All the girls are monsters All the boys are whores So when you lose the one you love There's always plenty more.