So I stood by the roadside
|
The soles of my running shoes gripping the tarmac
|
Like gunmetal magnets
|
Fixed on the fron of her Fassbinder face
|
Was the kind of a smile
|
That only a rather dull child could have drawn
|
While attempting a graveyard in the moonlight
|
But she was impressed
|
You could see that she thought I looked fine
|
And when she turned sweeter
|
The reason (between you and me) was
|
She'd just seen my green Lamborghini
|
|
So we went for a spin in the country
|
To feel the wind in our hair
|
To feel the power of my engine
|
To feel the thrill of desire
|
|
And then in the trees I heard a twig snap
|
Warning lights flashed on my map
|
I opened my eyes and to my surprise
|
|
-----------------
|
4.33 AM (Running Shoes)
|
| Roger Waters |
