You better run You better run and run and run. You better run You better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. You better run You better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. You stand before your maker. In a state of shame. Bacause your robes are covered in mud. While your kneel at the feet. Of a woman of the street. The gutters will run with blood. They will run with blood!. You better run you better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. You better run you better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. In the days of madness. My brother my sister. When you're dragged toward the Hell-mouth. You will beg at the end. But there ain't gonna be one friend. For the grave will spew you out. It will spew you out!. You better run you better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. You better run you better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. You'll be working in the darkness. Against your fellow man. And you'll find you're called to come forth. So you'll scrub and you'll scrub. But the trouble is bud. The blood it won't wash off. No it won't come off!. You better run you better run. You better run to the City of Refuge. You better run you better run. You better run and run and run.