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
Is 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

To murder my love is a 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

[Chorus]

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): ELVIS COSTELLO