Texty: Greta Ida Csatlós. Fake Fur. Juke Box.

The Coin in my Hand is cold
Me coming out of a Storm
The Booze is worn out and old
was ever old when I was born

When I'm wear<
you play my favourite Song
you help me out
you help me get along

So find a Juke Box
while Life refuses to play
Go find a Juke Box
you won't have nothing to pay
So find a Juke Box
you have to run away

When the world gets dark and out of lean
then I wish my mind could swim
in an Ocean of pure Music
while the Juke Box
gets the People in

When dark Days keep me under
the Spell of a filthy Joint
Oh what I ever wanted the most
was in a handtull of cheap Coins