Mona And The Preacher - Cold Chisel

The street boys are waiting for the late late show

Their eyes are shifty and their pants are low

A telephone rings in a room upstairs

The veteran sings to the road below

Mona leans against a lamppost at the corner of the street

The afternoon papers blow around her feet

She hooks her thumb beneath the strap of her bag

Her cigarette gleams as she takes another drag

The city mission stands in the late night rain

The big drops streak the dirty windowpane

The old lay preacher steps out from a one way lane

The lady says «Coffee!»

and the man says «yes»

Mona leans against the counter as she wipes her dress

Her legs hold promise and her eyes are wide

The preacher slides in from the night outside

The Laminex tables line along the wall

Mona wanders through the cafe to the window stall

The preacher asks softly for the time of day

Then heads towards the mission with his take-away

His eyes rake Mona as he jerks the door

The outside rain becomes an inside roar

Mona rests her toes on the late night cafe floor

Mona and the preacher

Mona and the preacher

Mona and the preacher

Mona and the preacher

The city mission stands in the late night rain

The big drops streak the dirty windowpane

The old lay preacher leaps a swollen drain

Now some like to dance in the twilight zone

Seekin' after Mona when they’re all alone

Some seek the preacher, their hearts to console

'Cause she heals the body, but he heals the soul