Well she's nothing much,
But she looks like a gangster's moll.
Well there ain't no doubt about it,
I know she ran with Mad Dog Coll.
She's the driver of the getaway car,
Public enemy number 1.
Well, she's fact and she's fiction,
All wrapped up into one.
Sound, lights and vision,
Street car collisions and all.
We got the G-men on a mission,
They can't catch up at all.
Well, won't you have that motor twitchin',
For public enemy number 1, number 1.
Well the marked man unmarked car,
Waiting out in the cold got his work cut out,
Well a travel guide to a shooting star,
Is the only clue we left about.
It's a battle of wits, a psyche-out,
Synchronised tension's taking hold,
It's a battle of wits, a psyche-out,
Synchronised tension's taking hold, taking hold.
B-girl oh B-girl,
Be my permanent alibi.
Well you got to keep your eyes peeled,
Stay alert at the wheel tonight.
Keep the key in the ignition,
We won't get no remission this time.
Won't you have that motor twitchin',
When I come running by.
I come running by...yeah.
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