You better make your face up in Your favourite 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 As the cockle shell shatters And the hammers butter Down your door You better run You better run all day And run all night And keep your dirty feelings Deep inside.
And if you Take your girlfriend Out tonight
You better park the car Well out of sight cos if they catch you in the back seat Trying to pick her locks They re gonna send you back to mother In a card board box You better run.
|
|