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  • So this is where he came to hide
    When he ran from you
    In a private detective's overcoat
    And dirty dead man's shoes
    The pretty things of Knightsbridge
    Lying for a minister of state
    Are 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
    [Chorus:]
    To murder my love is crime
    But will you still love
    A man out of time
    There's a tuppeny hapenny 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 humour
    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
    [Chorus]
    The biggest wheels of industry
    Retire sharp and short
    And the after dinner overtures
    Are nothing but an after thought
    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
  • So this is where he came to hide
    When he ran from you
    In a private detective's overcoat
    And dirty dead man's shoes
    The pretty things of Knightsbridge
    Lying for a minister of state
    Are 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
    [Chorus:]
    To murder my love is crime
    But will you still love
    A man out of time
    There's a tuppeny hapenny 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 humour
    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
    [Chorus]
    The biggest wheels of industry
    Retire sharp and short
    And the after dinner overtures
    Are nothing but an after thought
    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