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