| 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 clothes in tatters
|
| When the cockleshell shatters
|
| And the hammers batter
|
| Down the 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 fuck her good
|
| 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 |