|
So this is where he came to hide |
|
When he ran from you |
|
In a private detective overcoat |
|
And dirty dead man's shoes |
|
The pretty things of Knightsbridge |
|
Lying for a minister of state |
|
Is a far cry from the nod and wink |
|
Here at traitor's gate |
|
'Cause the high heel he used to be has been ground down |
|
And he listens for the footsteps that would follow him around |
|
To murder my love is a crime |
|
But will you still love |
|
A man out of time? |
|
There's a twopenny ha'penny millionaire |
|
Looking for a fourpenny one |
|
With a tight grip on the short hairs |
|
Of the public imagination |
|
But for his private wife and kids somehow |
|
Real life becomes a rumor |
|
Days of Dutch courage |
|
Just three French letters and a German sense of humor |
|
He's got a mind like a sewer and a heart like a fridge |
|
He stands to be insulted, and he pays for the privilege |
|
To murder my love is a crime |
|
But will you still love |
|
A man out of time? |
|
The biggest wheels of industry |
|
Retire sharp and short |
|
And the after-dinner overtures |
|
Are nothing but an afterthought |
|
Somebody's creeping in the kitchen |
|
There's a reputation to be made |
|
Whose nerves are always on a knife's edge |
|
Who's up late polishing the blade |
|
Love is always scarpering or cowering or fawning |
|
You drink yourself insensitive and hate yourself in the morning |
|
To murder my love is a crime |
|
But will you still love |
|
A man out of time? |
|
Will you still love |
|
A man out of time? |
|
Will you still love |
|
A man out of time? |
|
Ooh |
