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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