by Deborah Harry



Shayla worked in a factory

She wasn't history

She's just a number



One day she gets her final pay

And she goes far away



Oh oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh

Oh oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh



Green trees call to me

I'm free but life is so cheap

Scenery is still outside of me

All alone trapped by its purity



Shayla turned to run away

To leave in peace and end her stay

Years are few and anyway

Lost in space and down she came



Suddenly, some subtle entity

Some cosmic energy brushed her like shadows

Down here we stop to wonder

Cars on the freeway, bright lights and thunder



Oh oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh

Oh oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh

Oh oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh

Oh oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh