Rotating head, keeps on the right side

Colied up and tense remains on the lookout

Expects to be shot or get given the bullet.

Rotating head tries to look on the bright side of things.



Rotating head, friends in high places

No need to guess what he's got in that briefcase

A mind like a gin-trap, one swollen ankle.

The rotating head tries to stay on the right side of things,

On the right side of things.



Living on tip-toe,

Waiting for the next step,

The wages of death

What a life for a swivelhead.



Understand, underhand, underarm protection

Each new passer-by a new wave of suspicion.

In less than an hour the plane will be leaving

The lights and the cameras

Then sleeep on a prayer and a wing

Rotating.



Living on tip-toe,

Waiting for the next step,

The wages of death

What a life for a swivelhead.



Rotating head look on the bright side

Colied up and tense remains on the lookout.

A mind like a gin-trap, one swollen ankle.

The rotating head tries to stay on the right side of things,

That's the right side of things.