Run, girl, run
away from the sun
Napalm burns
so close to your body
Photographers shoot
cameras roll
The western world
would like to say sorry

Run, girl, run
You’ll be someone
One fine morning
without any warning

Because peace comes
from the barrel of a gun
A thousand flowers
will bloom where you run
Intellectuals frown
Headlines scream
Nixon’s a clown
Mao is obscene

Run, girl, run
It’s only begun
You’re going far
They’ve made you a star

What d’you want to be?
Joan of Arc on TV?
A whore or a nun?
Run, girl, run
You’ll be enshrined
in the Guggenheim
The western art world
needs another icon

Run, girl, run
You’ll be someone
One fine morning
without any warning
Run, girl, run
You’ve only begun
You’re going far
They’ve made you a star
Is that what you want?

Run, girl, run
Run, girl, run