An old man shuffles down the street.
He stops and smiles, and tips his hat 
At the rich kids where they eat.
But they don't know him, 
And they don't smile back,
So he looks towards the sky,
And wonders, why?
And walks on by.
A young girl wouldn't stand 'round here alone
Without that old guy right behind her
Wearing cheap cologne;
Who says to her
As I walk past,
''Go on now, catch his eye'',
Then wonders, why
I walk on by.
Late night dancing
Overload.
No romancing here,
Out on Darlinghurst Rd.
Everything's OK
'Cos it's easy to say...
Down the street a guy writes poetry,
And as we talk he hands me one
And he tells me ''it's not free''.
I say ''That's nice,
But what's the price?''
He tells me not to pry
Then starts to cry,
And I walk on by. 
Late night dancing
Overload.
No romancing here,
Out on Darlinghurst Rd.
Everything's OK
At the end of the day...
A store sells morsels from Bombay 
To strippers who buy vindaloo
They don't eat anyway.
They like the heat
Of foreign meat
The Indians supply.
It gets them high,
I wonder why?
(Instrumental)
Young men keep on lyin' in the street,
Sailors sigh while young girls cry
And homeless search for heat.
Lives disappear
As we stand here
Just watching people die.
You wonder, why?
But walk on by...