Rotating heads, keeps on the right side
Coiled up and tense, remains on the lookout
Expect to be shot or get given the bullet
Rotating head tries to look on the bright side of things
Rotating heads, 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 bright 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 sleep 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
Coiled up and tensed, remain on the lookout
A mind like a gin-trap, one swollen ankle
The rotating head tries to stay on the bright side of things
That's the right side of things
