Through the rubble of the bombed out streets,
Through the squalor and the poverty
Walks a proud Neapolitan girl
With a head of thick black curls.
She doesn’t care ‘bout right or wrong, Doesn’t care ‘bout right or wrong,
Just about where the next meal’s coming from. Just about where the next meal’s coming from.

Neapolitan girl.

Innocence can often be
Another one of war’s casualties.
But innocence can be restored
With a visit to the Professore.
And for ten thousand lira he For ten thousand lira he
Can find mislaid virginity. Can find mislaid virginity.
His dirty needle leaves a trail of scars
And keeps her at the peak of her sexual powers.

Hum, Neapolitan girl.
Oh yeah.

She takes him riding on the 133
Through the city to the cemetery,
Where the Neapolitan girls go
Down behind the headstones.
Oh the quickening breath and muffled cries
As life and death become entwined.
Now baby, just pretend you don’t see ‘em
Lusting in the mausoleum.

Ha, Neapolitan girl.
Oh yeah.

Lola has a lover in the city bank,
And Lola has a lover in the British ranks.
Well, Lola has them over in the middle of the day
‘Cause Lola makes the neighbours all jealous that way.
She doesn’t care ‘bout right or wrong, She doesn’t care ‘bout right or wrong,
Just about where the next meal’s coming from. Just about where the next meal’s coming from.

Neapolitan girl.
Neapolitan girl.