Well the first frame finds her running. But the night pushes her deep within the tunnel. She camouflages herself in dayglo paint. And she sings her love songs through a funnel. And she clings to the walls like a cat who calls. The shots for life and for death. Wearing nothing but the make-up she uses. To try and cover up for herself. Well if she can't hide her sword. She gives no terms for surrender. 'Cause she's living the Third World War. The Tunnel Police they steadily increase. The search for where she hides her kid. She swings on a vine across the State Line. they measured the length of her skid. She never goes back to do something she didn't. Or undo something she did. Smoke streams from the street. And the night is complete. With a long and fiery belch. She's just another Orphan Annie cartoon and a Raquel Welch. She rides like Caesar brandishing a whip. On the hood of his squad car. As the siren wails she silently sails. Leaving footprints in the tar. Oh she breaks with the dawn. And by morning she's gone. Leaving nothing but another night. She returns to her home. Like a dog returns to a bone. Another unsatisfied wife. And there's little Booth. Secure from the truth. He wants her more than he's got the guts to say. 'Cause as she needs to be real. He needs to conceal. The realness of his place. So he sings a little song. And in a chiffon sarong. She performs a black ballet in space. But she's another flop with a fancy name. And he's just another cop with a pretty face. So together they commit the ultimate crime. Two hearts locked in true waltz time.