when I was just eight or nine,
I was so upset by the monster film,
I was close to petrified.


RUNNING OUT OF THE MOVIES
and all the way to my home,

and I never saw what I went there for,
the double-feature's second show.


RUNNING OUT OF THE MOVIES,
I left my big brother there.
After all, he'd dragged me to the show.

Why should I give half a care?

After all, he'd ridiculed me

for complaining 'bout the press of the crowd.
After all, he'd bought his own popcorn
and wouldn't share it anyhow.

After all, he'd kept the money
Mom had given him to buy me treats.
After all, he'd made sure I was stuck

behind some bigger kid's seat.

RUNNING OUT OF THE MOVIES,

so who is protecting whom?
If my brother couldn't be the least concerned,
then I wouldn't mind his doom.


RUNNING OUT OF THE MOVIES,
I left without that big creep.

If the Mole Men ate that big jerk alive,
that was quite all right by me.