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 batter
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're
Taking your girlfriend
Out tonight,
You better park the car
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.