David Gilmour
Run Like Hell
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
You better make your face up
In your favorite 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 clothes in tatters
When the cockleshell shatters
And the hammers batter
Down the door
You'd better run
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
You better run all day
And run all night
Keep your dirty feelings
Deep inside
And if you're taking your girlfriend
Out tonight
You'd better fuck her good
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