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?