They are seemingly decent citizens
With honest occupations
How does one recognise them?
Perhaps one doesn't
Maybe they shop at your shop
Travel in your train
Live in your street
And why do we do it?
It's not so difficult to answer
I'm making sense of random signs
Waiting for the hole in a perfect plan
Bent another rule and ruined a life
Lurking on the roof
Under flickering streetlight
Never come back
I told you never come back
I told you never never never never
Ever come back
Decision has been made to erase your file
Careful where you tread as I'm hunting you down
They are constantly assessing our agents
Constantly questioning what they're saying
Making sure that we're still confident in their access
In their motivations and their suitability
That we can trust them
Yeah, run away
Another hemisphere
And lose the tail
Before we give you nightmares
I pieced enough together
To find what went wrong
You didn't kill the target
Because you fell in love
You turned some insiders
To cover your escape
You had a plastic surgery
Oh, please give me a break
Never come back
I told you never come back
I told you never never never never
Ever come back
Decision has been made to erase your file
Careful where you tread as I'm hunting you down
Well, I'm not going to go into operational details
About these things.There were good reasons
And clearly this was something that went wrong
And sometimes operations do go wrong
Whereas actually such failings are very rare
In the operations that intelligence agencies conduct
Yeah, run away
Another hemisphere
And lose the tail
Before we give you nightmares
I pieced enough together
To find what went wrong
You didn't kill the target
Because you fell in love
You turned some insiders
To cover your escape
You had a plastic surgery
Oh, please give me a break
And the people involved are the people like this
The average men
For that is what they seem
Security men would call them source
For that is what they are
Sources of secret information
Everything they do, everything they say
Seems perfectly normal except for that odd thing
And even this, seconds later
Might seem to be unthinking work of a child
That is to everyone except this man
You're mine now
You dug your grave well
A moral nuance of coding stealth
You're mine now
You dug your grave well
A moral nuance invited death
Gave you away
Your desperate poem cipher
You thought I would not crack
You're mine now
And that's where story ends
In peril and haste I twist your neck
