Pink Floyd. Run Like Hell. Zeneszám

You better run like hell
You better make your face up in
Your favourite disquise
With your button down lips and your
Roller blind eyes
With your empty smiler
And your hungry heart
Iced the bile rising from your quilty post
With your nerves in tatters
When the cockleshell shattens
And the hammers butter
Down the door
You better run like hell
You better run all day
And run all night
And keeps your dirty feelings
Deep inside
Take your girlfriend
Out tonight,
You better park the car
Well out of sight
Cos if they catch your in the back scat
Trying to pick her looks
They're gonna send you back to mother
In a cardboard box
You better run