[Verse]
he rode through the streets of the city
down from his hill on high
O'er the winds and the steps and the cobble
he rode to a woman's sigh
for she was his secret treasure
She was his shame and his bliss
and a chain and a keep are nothing
compared to a woman's kiss
[chorus]
for hands of gold are always cold
but a woman's hands are warm
for hands of gold are always cold
but a woman's hands are warm