She was born in November 1963 the day Aldous Huxley died
And her mama believed that every man could be free
So her mama got high, high, high
And her daddy marched on Birmingham singing mighty protest songs
And he pictured all the places where he knew that she belonged
But he failed and taught her young the only thing she's need to carry on
He taught her how to
Run baby run baby run baby run baby run
Past the arms of the familiar and their talk of better days
To the comfort of the strangers slipping out before they say so long
Baby loves to run
She counts out all her money in the taxi on the way to meet her plane
Stares hopeful out the window at the workers fighting
Through the pouring rain
And she's searching through the stations for an unfamiliar song
And she's pictures all the places where she knows she still belongs
And she smiles the secret smile because she knows exactly how To carry on
So run baby run baby run baby run baby run
From the old familiar faces and their old familiar ways
To the comfort of the strangers slipping out before they say so long
Baby loves to run
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