Standard (EADGBE)

So this is where he came to hide

When he ran from you

In a private detective overcoat

And dirty dead men's shoes

The pretty things of Knightsbridge

Lying for of Minister of State

Are a far cry from the nod and wink

 Here at Traitors' 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 tupenny ha'ppenny 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 rumour

 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 after the 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 the knife's edge

 And 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

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