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Run, run, run |
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Run, run, run |
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Run, run, run |
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You better make your face up in your favorite disguise |
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With your button down lips and your roller blind eyes |
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With your empty smile and your hungry heart |
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Feel the bile rising from your guilty past |
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With your nerves in tatters, as the cockleshell shatters |
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And the hammers batter down the door, you'd better run |
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Run, run, run |
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Run, run, run |
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Run, run, run |
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You better run all day and run all night |
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And keep your dirty feelings deep inside |
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And if you're taking your girlfriend out tonight |
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You'd better park the car well out of sight |
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'Cause if they catch you in the back seat |
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Trying to pick her locks, they're gonna send you |
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Back to mother in a cardboard box, you better run |
