Runnin' Outta Luck

Brandon FlowersBrandon Flowers 

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Brandon Flowers

Brandon Richard Flowers (born June 21, 1981) is an American musician, best known as the frontman of the Las Vegas-based rock band The Killers. He has also released a solo album titled Flamingo. more »

Year:

2017

3:51

95 Views

Playlists:

#2

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There's a light in your hair, an apocalyptic glare
We're in love again, we're in love again
And it looks just like a comet, fire coming from it
Oh baby, let's just sit back and stare
We're in love again, we're in love again
And I can't stop thinking 'bout it
My favorite kind of fever
When you tell me not to doubt it, I tell you I believe you

I'm a man on a mission, you're a stripper out of luck
And we're good in the back seat but we're better up front
And there's blood on my knuckles 'cause there's money in the trunk
Keep running out of luck, keep running out of luck

Now there's cash on a stage, doesn't matter what they paid
We're in love again, we're in love again
So please don't stand around me
When she starts her dancing
I'm feeling like I might catch a case
We're in love again, I said we're in love again
And I can't stop thinking 'bout it
She's probably gonna leave you
But she tells me not to doubt it
And I'm starting to believe her
Understand

I'm a man on a mission, you're a stripper out of luck
And we're good in the back seat but we're better up front
And there's blood on my knuckles 'cause there's money in the trunk
Keep running out of luck, keep running out of luck

In a neon boneyard, raised from the dead
We'll bet on forever but we both know the spread
And the smoke from your fire's going straight to my head
So keep running out of luck, keep running out of luck

Where you been?
I been in the smoke
Oh oh, oh

I'm a man on a mission, you're a stripper out of luck
And we're good in the back seat but we're better up front
And there's blood on my knuckles 'cause there's money in the trunk
Keep running out of luck, keep running out of luck

In a neon boneyard, raised from the dead
We'll bet on forever but we both know the spread
And the smoke from your fire's going straight to my head
So keep running out of luck, keep running out of

Keep running out of luck

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