Текст The Dead Weather – Rough Detective

You’re an unusual suspect now and may be right.
The kind all men cannot recollect or forget at night.
You’re the rough detective with the smokey eye.
Where the person you are after is the other guy.

Don’t make me run, baby;
don’t make me run, ah ow!
Don’t make me run, baby;
don’t make me run, ah, ow!

Well, I’ll make you retell your story now just to trip you up.
This mirror is reflective only if you’re tired.
Your instinct is defective, but your crook’s on fire.
I, get a lil’ possessive when I’ve tricking a liar, now.
You sympathize, you hypnotize, it’s just so odd.
Well, I’m a rough detective on a glory ride.
You keep going faster so I slow down.
You hear me laughing in the background.

Don’t make me run, baby;
don’t make me run, ah ow!
Don’t make me run, baby;
don’t make me run, ah, ow!

Aaaaaah!
What’s happening?
What’s happening?
Well.
Ah ah ah ah ah ah…
I can’t hold it any longer.
I can’t hold it anymore.

She looked right at me and laughed; is she laughing?