There's choking confusion, the blink of an eye.
The clock has stopped and I give up trying to reason.
Why do you dot his to me?
Only inside I see your concealing plan for me.

Come on up little girl, you'd better push on, you've fallen.
Send me to pick you up sensing defeat.
Trapdoor open.
This is the last time we try.

Some little rumour grabs a gun up by the handle,
Puts one finger on the trigger and it'd shooting for me,
And it's shooting from the hip.
This is the last time we try.

Writer : DUBOIS, CHRIS/LANE, TONY/LEE, DAVID
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing