So this is where he came to hide 
When he ran from you 
In a private detective overcoat 
And dirty dead man's shoes 
The pretty things of Knightsbridge 
Lying for a minister of state 
Heard a far cry from the nod and wink 
Here at Traitor's Gate 
Oh, the high heel he used to be 
Has been ground down 
And he listens for the footsteps 
As they follow him around 
To murder my love is a crime 
But will you still love a man out of time? 
There's a tuppeny hapenny millionaire 
Looking for a fourpenny one 
With a tight grip on the short hairs 
Of the public imagination 
For his private wife and his kids somewhere 
Real life becomes a rumor 
Say his up Dutch courage, just three French letters 
And a German sense of humor 
He's got a mind like a sewer 
And a heart like a fridge 
He stands to be insulted 
And he pays for the privilege 
To murder my love is a crime 
But will you still love a man out of time? 
A man out of time 
The biggest wheels of industry 
Retire short and sharp 
And the after dinner overtures 
Are nothing but an after thought 
Somebody's creeping in the kitchen 
There's a reputation to be made 
Whose nerves are always on a knife's edge 
Who's up late polishing the blade 
Love is always scarpering 
Or cowering or fawning 
You drink yourself insensitive 
And hate yourself in the morning 
To murder my love is a crime 
But will you still love a man out of time?