So this is where he came to hide When he ran from you In a private detective 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 twopenny ha'penny 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 rumor Days of Dutch courage Just three French letters and a German sense of humor
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
To murder my love is a crime But will you still love A man out of time?
The biggest wheels of industry Retire sharp and short And the after-dinner overtures Are nothing but an afterthought
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
To murder my love is a crime But will you still love A man out of time? Will you still love A man out of time? Will you still love A man out of time? Ooh