Rotating head, keeps on the right side

Coiled 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 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 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

Rotating head, keeps on the right side

Coiled up and tense remains on the lookout
Expects to be shot or get given the bullet