Everyday I see you wearing things that have never been worn before While the children at the government schools send money for the poor And all you buy you bargain for, with your little man So that from your silks down to your paramour Your tres, tres, paragon So it's a backbeach in the summer The chalet for the snow You poor Hoochie Gucci Fiorucci Mama You got really no place to go Antiques flown in from Venice fill your house upon the hill While your money sold the soul of rock and roll For some cheap disco thrill I've seen your peers pouting over beers The loneliness it showed Mistaking tacky sex for sensuality They bought in Toorak road So, it's a backbeach in the summer The chalet for the snow You poor Hoochie Gucci Fiorucci Mama You got really no place to go Inside her empty castle Her lonely heart will dwell The life that she's been losing's Like some stony bagatelle The loving that you never found You don't know the reason why Oh, Hoochie Gucci Fiorucci Mama Don't you cry