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Oh no, where are my hands |
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They're in my pockets |
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Away from your hands |
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And that is where they will stay |
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Because you are far away |
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You said you had something to say |
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But while you were talking, my feet started walking away |
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Before I knew where I was |
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I was up short of the motorway |
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And I kept on walking |
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And the rain was beating down on my head |
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And I kept on walking |
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And all the while I let you call my name |
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But I kept doing just the same |
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Til I feel like trying to complain |
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But I don't think they will listen |
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Keep going, keep going and there ain't no way of knowing |
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When to stop, when to stop, it's tearing me apart |
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Cause I would like to be polite |
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Sit and hold you for the night |
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Like my parents would stick around |
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My manners start from the ankles down |
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Oh no, where are my hands |
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They're in my pockets |
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Away from your hands |
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I'm far away from your plans |
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Far, far away from your plans |
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I keep going, keep going and there ain't no way of knowing |
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When I'll stop, when I'll stop and it's happening a lot |
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And you told me that I was your man |
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I try to speak, instead I follow my feet |
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I ran, I ran |
