CHORUS See the man on the phone With a gun in his hand Sipping courage from a crystal cup He's a man in the wrong With a gun at his head Pushes on and now it's time to cut and run Time, pa**ing so slowly Still, as he sits, and he watches the sand slip through his hands He demands something more Something strong Something savage and pure One more twist of the knife, and it's time to cut and run CHORUS He smiles as he draws on his last cigarette And he tries to forget all that forces every move He commands something new Something strong Something spiteful and true One more twist of the knife, and it's time to cut and run Cries on his tape so they might understand Signs his farewell with a squeeze of his hand CHORUS CHORUS CHORUS CHORUS