Run, Run, Run

Teenage Mary said to Uncle Dave
I sold my soul must be saved
Gonna take a walk down to Union Square
You never know who you're gonna find there

You gotta run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy death and you
Tell watch a do

Marguerita Passion had to get her fix
She wasn't well she was getting sick
Went to sell her soul she wasn't high
Didn't know things she could buy it

And she would run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy death and you
Tell watch a do

Seasick Sarah had a golden nose
Hobnail boots wrapped around her toes
When she turned blue all the angels screamed
They didn't know they couldn't make the scene

She had to run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy death and you
Tell watch a do

Beardless Harry what a waste
Couldn't even get a small town taste
Rode the trolleys down to 47
Figured he was good to get himself to heaven

‘Cause had to run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy death and you
Tell watch a do

Corre, Corre, Corre

La adolescente María dijo al tío Dave
Vendí mi alma, debería salvarme
Voy a dar un paseo por Union Square
Nunca sabes a quién te vas a encontrar ahí

Tienes que correr, correr, correr, correr, correr
Da una calada o dos
Corre, corre, corre, corre, corre
Un gitano muerto y tú
Te diré que vas a hacer

Margarita Pasión tenía que arreglarla
Ella no estaba bien, estaba enfermando
Fue a vender su alma, no estaba bien
No sabía las cosas que podría comprar

Y ella corre, corre, corre, corre, corre
Da una calada o dos
Corre, corre, corre, corre, corre
Un gitano muerto y tú
Te diré que vas a hacer

Sarah mareada tenía una nariz de oro
Botas de clavos envolvían sus pies
Cuando se puso azul todos los ángeles gritaron
Ellos no lo sabían, no podían creerlo

Ella tuvo que correr, correr, correr, correr, correr
Da una calada o dos
Corre, corre, corre, corre, corre
Un gitano muerto y tú
Te diré que vas a hacer

Imberbe Harry, qué desperdicio
No podía siquiera conseguir una dosis pequeña
Cabalgo en tranvía hasta la calle 47
Pensó que si era bueno llegaría al cielo

Porque tenía que correr, correr, correr, correr, correr
Da una calada o dos
Corre, corre, corre, corre, corre
Un gitano muerto y tú
Te diré que vas a hacer