| Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
|
| Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
|
| You better make your face up in
|
| Your favorite disguise
|
| With your button down lips and your
|
| Roller blind eyes
|
| With your empty smile
|
| And your hungry heart
|
| Feel the bile rising from your guilty past
|
| With your nerves in tatters
|
| When the conch shell shatters
|
| And the hammers batter
|
| Down your door
|
| You’d better run
|
| Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
|
| Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
|
| You better run all day
|
| And run all night
|
| Keep your dirty feelings
|
| Deep inside
|
| And if you’re taking your girlfriend
|
| Out tonight
|
| You’d better park the car
|
| Well out of sight
|
| 'Cause if they catch you in the back seat
|
| Trying to pick her locks
|
| They’re gonna send you back to mother
|
| In a cardboard box
|
| You better run
|
| «Hey, open up!»
|
| «Hammer, hammer» |