| She packed her things in a carpet bag
|
| She left home never looking back
|
| Taking care to cover up her tracks
|
| Stopping over 'till she made a wage
|
| Telling no-one she was under age
|
| A number on a missing persons page
|
| Rings on her finger, paint on her toes
|
| She shall have music wherever she goes
|
| On her transistor radio
|
| Runaway, runaway
|
| Runaway, runaway
|
| Runaway
|
| Darkness falls and finds her on her own
|
| The sparkling highway just keeps rolling on
|
| She’s a thousand miles from home
|
| Dropping coins into a telephone
|
| All that answers is a ringing tone
|
| Sometimes it feels the whole world’s not at home
|
| Rings on her finger, paint on her toes
|
| She shall have music wherever she goes
|
| On her transistor radio
|
| Runaway, runaway
|
| (Runaway)?? |
| an APB
|
| Nothing comes of being free
|
| (Runaway)
|
| She will wander where she pleases
|
| (Runaway)
|
| A steady job and a nice young man
|
| They thought they had the future planned
|
| (Runaway)
|
| But they’ll never understand
|
| Runaway
|
| Runaway |