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Hot blood on the run,
A story just begin,
Washed out, feeling used,
This lady's gun is fused.

Old times moved too fast,
You touched against the past,
Caught you out, dressed to thrill,
But I know you aim to kill.

I feel you near,
Too close for comfort,
It's my turn to burn,
Now that you hold the gun.

Make one up, take a fall,
Since you started creeping round,
Got my back against the wall,
Watch you smile and gun me down.

Hot blood, runaround,
No time just hit the ground,
Caught you out, dressed to thrill,
But I know you aim to kill.

I feel you near,
Too close for comfort,
It's my turn to burn,
Now that you hold the gun.

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