No Back to the Kitchen I'm a singer for money In filthy clubs and smokey bars working late for my sweet honey paid by guys with racy cars When I come back to my sweet home The lights are off, the kids all sleep I feel so helpless in the house I'm this strong lady that now weeps I feel I need to fly away Into some distant outer space Intergalactic concerts on the way living my life at real full pace ! Free my mind from gritty fights I spent struggling through dark nights I wanna sing around the world And feel the love from my young crowd Let me escape from these closed walls And answer yes to Distant Calls I sing for drunken business men 'I'm working late' they tell their wifes Sniffing lines (un)'der gloomy disco balls Telling working girls their boring lifes My voice is low, my blood is cold I'm all alone on the dance floor The club is closed, the clients gone It's time to go back to the kitchen I feel I need to fly away Into some distant outer space Intergalactic concerts on the way living my life at real full pace ! Free my mind from gritty fights I spent struggling through dark nights I wanna sing around the world And feel the love from my young crowd Let me escape from these closed walls And answer yes to Distant Calls Lyrics by MRC.