Hands up
He said
If you move a little bit you’re dead
I want the [melody?] that you were about to get
Tonight
They win
I’m in a cellar and I have to stay in
I have to write a song whether it’s right or wrong
Here comes the young reporter
In his overcoat
I’m on the tape recorder
In his motorboat
Is he coming in time for me
Click clack
Turn the key
They [have come?] to transport me