Original subtitles

Extra crispy.

Do you want my thick, deep-fried.

Juicy looking breast Wings, thick thighs?

You want my thick, deep-fried Juicy looking breast, wings,

I'm like if a hillbilly hick Was a big booty bitch.

Wearing a little femme fit With witchy-ass shit.

Born a South Florida man I'm a Palm Beach jit...

So let's go over the plan.

We go in and we get Reed out.

We violently break into a Black Doves holding site

and abscond with your old handler?

Yeah.

It's a lot of trouble to go to to ask some questions.

You know the problem with assassins? They're uncurious about the world.

They don't like questions because they don't like answers.

Sounds like a reference to a conversation that I wasn't privy to.

So your work colleagues, they're not gonna mind you just rolling up on them

like the fucking Normandy landings?

I think it might be quite awkward at my next peer review meeting.

Let's just put it that way.

And this place is gonna be guarded by Black Doves?

It's gonna be guarded by a mercenary security force

subcontracted out by the Black Doves.

How many of these mercenary security force subcontracted cunts are we expecting?

- I'd say anywhere between 20 and 40. - Let's hope for 20.

I'm gonna have to change this music. Sorry, I can't bear this.

- What do you mean? That's my kill list. - What?

My kill list. The playlist I have to listen to when I'm doing a job.

There are three other people in this car, and we all get a say in what we listen to.

If you put this dour shit on all the way,

we'll end up topping ourselves before we get there.

Fine, we'll change it. Helen, what do you like to listen to?

Oh God, I don't know. I just listen to whatever my kids put on.

You must have a favorite singer.

- My mind's gone completely blank. - Just think of something.

Olly Murs.

- Olly Murs? - What the fuck?

My kids like listening to Olly Murs.

Your kids aren't in the fucking car, thank God.

- Okay, what do you like, Helen? - Can we just listen to a podcast?

- Absolutely not. - Jesus Christ.

No, no. I was listening to this really interesting one recently

about Saudi billionaires buying up property in London,

and how we have basically now these whole areas which are empty.

Fuck it. Let's go on. Let's put on a podcast.

Let's put on My Dad Wrote A Porno. Let's play fucking Off Menu.

Oh, put on The Rest is Gunfights.

Okay, what do you wanna listen to?

Tom Jones? Manic Street Preachers? Stereophonics?

Don't just name Welsh bands, you fucking racist.

- Charlotte Church? Shirley Bassey? - I have a broad cultural palette.

The fucking Phantom of the Opera soundtrack?

- Don't be slagging off Phantom. - God, let's just listen to The Beatles.

The Beatles? What era?

The early stuff.

Oh, okay, fine. The late stuff.

Why don't we just listen to my playlist? It's really good.

Jesus Christ. Put on the Williams Murder Mix.

Thank you.

How long till we get there? I need the toilet.

An hour.

But it's gonna feel a lot fucking longer.

Picture this, I'm a bag of dicks.

Put me to your lips, I am sick

I will punch a baby bear in his shit.

Give me lip, I'ma send you to the yard Get a stick.

Toxicology reports indicate Alexi Chernov died by poisoning.

Jesus Christ.

I mean, he... he seemed fine last night. He was full of beans.

The type of poisoning wouldn't have taken effect until later, sir.

After he left the restaurant.

And we're sure this was a deliberate killing?

Two members of the restaurant staff were found tied up in a store cupboard.

A waitress and a chef. Their uniforms had been stolen.

That's... That's a Tex Avery bit, isn't it?

Where is this gonna put us with the Russians, Bill?

Chernov was a law unto himself.

They wouldn't have been happy he was meeting you.

Do we think about postponing?

I think cancelling something the Russians didn't want to happen in the first place

because someone got mysteriously poisoned

sets a bit of a dangerous precedent, don't you, sir?

Good point.

As much as we possibly can,

we need to keep the prime minister's name out of this story.

We'll do everything we can to contain it.

Do we have any idea who is behind this? Solid evidence, I mean.

My team's going over CCTV from last night with the restaurant manager now.

Good. Keep me in the loop, will you?

Miss Mason, the prime minister sends his apologies,

but he's running late this morning.

No apologies necessary. You can just lead me straight to him.

- He's in a meeting. - Yeah, with me.

Miss Mason.

You don't like me, do you, Bill?

That's okay. I don't like you either.

You're what my mother would call a prissy little son of a gun.

Except she'd say bitch, not gun.

I'll say gun out of professional courtesy, but just know I'm thinking bitch.

Is he up this way?

I don't know if you heard, but Alexi Chernov was killed last night.

Oh, you know, I have a Google Alert for the words "Russia" and "poison."

So, yeah, I'm very aware, Bill.

I am very aware that Alexi Chernov is dead.

I am very aware that the prime minister ate with him in a restaurant

even though I told him not to.

And I am very aware

that we have a peace summit kicking off in five fucking minutes.

That is why I'm here, in fact, Bill, to keep the train on the rails.

So will you be an angel and go get your boss before I have to get mine?

Can you be trusted to wait here,

or do I need to tie you to a desk?

Oh, do not threaten me with a good time, William.

Do you have any silencers for these? I have a fucking hangover.

No.

Do you have any earmuffs?

No.

Eleanor?

Keep these on channel six.

Try not to shout. Williams is feeling fragile.

You two go to the left. Helen and I go right.

Keep in constant communication.

You get hit, you get in trouble,

let us know, we'll come to you, and vice versa.

And let's try to keep things low-key for as long as possible, okay?

What the fuck is this shit?

At the risk of seeming curious,

how exactly are we supposed to locate Mrs. Reed?

Maybe we should make a list of pros and cons to help us decide?

Yeah, okay.

Con, it would break up the friendship group.

- If it went wrong... - Could go really wrong.

It is dangerous. I know that.

- Once you do it, you can't undo it. - No.

- What about pros? - If we didn't try, we'd always wonder.

Yeah, did we make a stupid decision not going for it? Will we regret it?

Think you would regret it if you didn't try?

I don't know. I like Sam, that's the thing.

- Sam, what? - Yeah, Sam.

- What are you talking about? - I'm talking about you and me.

I thought we were talking about killing Sam.

- Jesus fucking Christ. - Williams, fucking hell.

Sorry, but I tell you I love you, and you want to talk about murdering Sam.

A million quid. They're gonna pay us almost a million quid.

- He's our friend. - He's a work colleague.

He's a bit more than that.

So, are we doing it? Don't get sentimental.

Rule number one, don't get fucking feelings.

That's rule number one, is it?

Yeah, that's rule number one.

- Rule number one is don't get shot. - Agreed.

Yeah? So you're not gonna go charging about like a mad person?

- What's that mean? - You're impatient.

Oh right, yeah.

Like how you were too impatient to talk to me before poisoning Chernov.

Has it occurred to you that I am trying to save you from yourself sometimes?

That I have to do difficult things that you might not like to keep you safe.

- Do you know what would keep me safe? - A bulletproof vest?

Answers. Answers would keep me safe. Knowing what is going on.

That's what's gonna keep me safe.

So I'm sorry if I am impatient to find Reed,

but everyone else I could have asked has been murdered. By you!

A bulletproof vest wouldn't hurt.

Just go slow if it's not too much to ask.

I wanna try and avoid attracting attention for as long as possible.

- Give me a hand grenade. - What?

Give me a fucking hand grenade.

It's not very stealthy, is it?

Yeah, well, I'm not feeling very stealthy, am I?

Sam told us to keep this low-key.

Sam would probably tell you not to fucking murder him,

but you're still doing that?

Know what? If you're gonna have a face on about it, I won't bother.

Only thinking about it anyway.

At least you were thinking about something.

- Are you gonna be like this all day? - Yeah, I am.

Can you give me a fucking hand grenade, please?

Fine. Be careful. It's got sentimental value.

- That was a joke. To lighten the mood. - Ha ha.

Shit!

What the... happened to low-key?

- I told you to be low-key. - What?

I told you to be low-key.

- Sorry. - Jesus!

Go round the back.

Unbelievable.

Main entrance breached.

Security breach, front door. All guards to their stations now!

- Robert. - What is it?

The off-site...

Shit.

Sweep left to right, floor by floor. Check every room.

Aye-aye, captain.

- It's Helen Webb. - Fuck.

- Where are the backup team? - On their way.

I don't even know your name.

You say you've feelings. I dunno your name.

- You know my name. - Your first name.

I don't know your surname.

- Davies. - I probably could've guessed that.

Well, what's with Williams anyway? Not very Irish, is it?

It's quite a Welsh name, actually.

Well, my dad was English.

Another thing you haven't told me.

- Hardly gonna go bragging about it. - What's your name?

- I don't wanna say. - Why not?

- Fionnuala. - Fionnuala?

- Yeah. - Fionnuala?

- Yeah, fucking Fionnuala. - Aw.

That's really nice. Don't know why you don't use that.

Because I sound like a fucking spinster and my mother gave it to me.

I think it's too good for all this.

Fionnula. Fion...

Fionnuala?

You jump in. You don't wait. You don't think.

I do think.

Really?

Did you think when you agreed to become a spy?

Did you think when you agreed to marry Wallace and have his children?

What about your affair with Jason? Was that a big thinking moment for you?

Sorry. Are you trying to have an argument with me during a gunfight?

- No. - Well, it feels like you are.

I'm saying that this is serious. There are consequences to our actions.

Like what?

Like when I said we shouldn't go snooping around Patrick?

The man who worked at your hotel, how close had you gotten?

Close enough I didn't wanna put a bullet in his head.

Why did you, then?

Because I was protecting you.

Because your strength is derived from my weakness.

Okay, well, that sounds like a reference to a conversation I wasn't privy to.

Ju...

Fionnuala translates as "fair-shouldered."

It's often associated with grace and beauty.

"It is also in the mythological story of the Children of Lir."

"Where Fionnuala transforms into a swan."

I would say you're more of a goose than a swan.

Yeah, my shoulders ain't that fucking fair either.

Wanna stop Googling my name and concentrate on keeping us alive?

Yeah, happy to, Fionnuala.

Oh shit.

Alpha team, target in sight. All units prepare to go in hot.

You keep telling me you're not gonna give up your life,

that you want me to help you fight for it. What about me?

- I would do the same for you. - I don't have a life to fight for.

I don't have a life.

You know what I have?

An empty concierge desk.

Six lines of coke off an empty minibar.

I have lying in bed till 3:00 a.m.

waiting for the fucking 20 milligrams of melatonin to kick in

so I can get just enough sleep for the hangover to settle

so I can get up for another fucking day of I'm not sure exactly what.

I pushed every person who ever threatened to love me away.

The ones I didn't push away, I killed.

And I suppose that's what I chose, but

it doesn't make it better.

- Sam. - I don't owe you anymore.

That debt is paid. We're even.

And I've nothing left. I've nothing left to give, Helen. Not even to you.

Hello? Got the cavalry approaching out front.

There's three van loads of the fuckers.

Oh fuck.

Shit. We're gonna have to try and hold them off.

Go and find Reed.

I'll hold them off for as long as I can.

Sam.

Your weakness doesn't make me strong.

Your strength does.

You do.

You always have.

Hostiles on upper floors.

Alpha team, approach with caution.

They're gonna come in around the back as well.

I'm on it.

The cause of death remains unknown.

- Officials say it's being treated... - Stay where you are!

The oligarch died last night.

With leaders arriving in the capital...

Chernov was of course...

restoring relations between Russia and the West.

Sometimes I wonder

if you've ever truly understood the concept of undercover.

- Are you hurt? - Well, no.

Thank God I wasn't trying to pick that lock. I'd have lost a bloody hand.

The phrase you're searching for is thank you.

Is it?

Is this a rescue, Helen, or is it something else?

It's a rescue, but I have questions.

And a gun. Strong position to be in.

Did Sam kill him?

Yes.

- I hope he's being paid well. - He's being blackmailed.

Dorset. Eight years ago. You sent me to kill a man. There's a recording of it.

Oh, Christ.

Conteh thinks you're burning your own agents

to cover up a bad assignment in Berlin.

Robert Conteh suffers from a terminal lack of imagination.

So you didn't have Klein and Ambrose killed?

I'm not saying I never thought about it, but no.

Okay, what about Ida Povetkin?

I heard a recording of a field report, and she was scared.

She was scared of you.

Which is exactly what she wanted anyone who heard that to take from it.

So you're being set up.

Quite successfully, it pains me to say.

Did I mention I have a hangover? 'Cause I fucking do.

Jesus!

So the Black Doves got a tip-off that you were in Paris up to no good,

and they find you there, red-handed,

with a hard drive implicating you in your own agent's murder?

North exit, go! Keep right!

- Up ahead! - Two o'clock!

Go, go, go, go, go!

Toss and aim!

Here comes fire!

So why did Ida Povetkin lie on the recording?

Ida was a silly girl who got her head turned.

I should never have put her out in the field.

Someone got to her,

promised her the world, convinced her to work against me.

Of course, she didn't realize

that to really sell the idea that I was burning my own agents,

she'd have to have her own throat slit too.

I expect that realization didn't dawn until she saw the knife.

Mrs. Reed and Helen Webb are not to be harmed under any circumstance.

Anyone else that's with them can be considered extremely expendable.

Get inside!

I can see them!

Oh fuck.

Come on, come on!

There's a lot of 'em.

A fuck of a lot of them.

Who's Wildflower?

I am.

It was my codename in Berlin.

What exactly happened out there?

I have a daughter.

Sorry, you have a what?

Daughter. A female child. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept.

It was a tough first gig, Berlin.

I only thought it would last a few months.

Cut to six years later,

and I'm there with a young daughter and no sign of a way out, so I forced one.

I told a lie, and people died, and I lost her.

No, I didn't lose her. I left her.

I abandoned her.

I had all references to her expunged and deleted from the files.

The whole sorry affair brushed under the carpet.

Vita, we called her.

Though I don't know what name she goes by now.

Well, I'm... shocked.

Good to know I can still surprise you.

No, I just... Well, I can't imagine you changing nappies.

Well, her father used to do most of that, to be honest.

Her father?

Franz.

The man you met in Dorset.

The man I shot in Dorset.

He should have died in Berlin.

- Jesus, why did you... - Have him killed?

Someone was blackmailing Alexi Chernov.

Threatening him with evidence

that he'd tried to defect to America in 1988.

Vast sums of money being sent to some anonymous blackmailer.

Position about to be overrun.

My position is overrun. Eleanor, Williams.

We need backup!

And, of course, Alexi tried to find out who it was.

Who could possibly know all his secrets.

Everyone in Kestrel was dead.

Or so I thought.

Franz.

Franz had survived.

And he was bleeding Alexi dry, accumulating vast wealth.

Enough to build something.

To bring back to life an idea, a movement.

Kestrel. Bigger, fiercer.

Much more dangerous than before.

The man was dying of cancer. He wasn't building anything.

No, not for him, no.

For his daughter.

Tell her I found Vita.

Well, who is she now?

Where is she?

I have no idea.

Oh. Marie. You all right? What are you doing here?

Sorry, Wall... Mr. Webb. Mr. Prime Minister.

You can call me Wallace, Marie. It's fine.

I need to pick up a new inhaler for Oli, for the school trip next week,

but, I can't find his prescription.

Helen isn't answering her phone.

- There's a school trip next week? - Yes. They're going to Belgium.

Oh, why?

The World War.

Oh Christ, another one?

- World War I. - A joke. Sorry.

My press team told me I need to stop making them.

I don't know where Oli's prescription is.

- Helen's not answering her phone? - No.

- You don't know where she is? - No.

- Okay, well, I can... - I'll sort it.

- Sorry to bother you. - It's fine.

Christ. I'd completely forgotten.

- That your son has a school trip? - No, that he has asthma. Miss Mason.

Mr. Prime Minister, how are you today?

All right. Well, not so great really, actually.

Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Now, summit business.

Most of our VIPs are landing today. Canada, Denmark, Finland, Germany.

Basically the countries we're not currently at war with.

Apparently, it's touch and go with Liechtenstein,

but we think they can behave themselves.

- That was a joke. - Yeah, certainly was.

- I enjoyed it. - Thank you.

Wallace, have you got 20 minutes to spare today?

I don't think I've got two minutes to spare, have I?

It's MI5. Officer Perryman. Says it's important.

Yeah, sure. Tell him he can come and find me.

Oh Christ.

Wallace, you cannot engage with that woman today.

Katia, can I just say

I am so, so sorry to hear about Alexi

and that it has come as such a terrible shock,

and we are gonna be investigating it at the very highest level.

Save the Metropolitan Police the trouble, Mr. Prime Minister.

It's no mystery who killed my husband.

Alexi's been prodding the bear for years.

Honestly, I'm surprised it took Moscow this long.

Well, we're gonna get to the bottom of it. I promise you that.

Thank you, but I'm not here to solve my husband's murder.

I'm here to honor his legacy. Alexi's speech at the summit.

They're good words, Wallace. They call for good things.

It would be a terrible shame if whoever killed my husband

achieved their aim and stopped them from being heard.

If you've come to ask me if you can read Alexi's speech at the summit,

the answer is...

No.

The answer is yes.

Thank you.

He was calling for peace, Mr. Prime Minister. He is gone.

Let us call for it together.

Call your fucking mother, you fucking bastard fucker!

Sam, fucking get here now!

I'm assuming you know what to do in a gunfight.

Put on a tin hat and affect a hostile attitude.

I will need a weapon though.

Can you use that?

Oh, I think I can manage.

Fucking contractors.

Fuck me. It's like Saddam's palace in there.

Who hired these idiots? Why aren't they stopping them?

Prioritize stairwells and exits!

Move, move, move! Push! Push!

Williams. Williams! Williams!

Clear a path out there! I'm getting Helen.

Are you... are you okay?

Yeah, fine.

Christ! Mrs. Reed!

- How are you? - Marvelous, thank you, Samuel.

And you have a shotgun? How wonderful.

Okay, let's go, shall we? I think this building's about to be overrun.

We've got her! Williams! Eleanor!

Williams! Eleanor!

Move, move!

- We've got Reed. Let's go! - Shit.

Come on, Williams.

- Wait! - Fionnuala, come on.

How many fucking near-death experiences do you want in one day?

- You'd care, would ya? - What do you mean?

- If I died, you'd care? - Of course I would.

- What if I came up on your phone? - What? What?

If a job came. "Kill Williams." Would you be thinking about that?

Of course I wouldn't.

- Life-changing money? - No.

- A million? - What, pounds?

- Euros. What does it matter? - It doesn't. I wouldn't.

- Ten? Fifty? - No. I wouldn't!

- Why not? - Because. Stop it.

- Why not? - Stop! Stop it!

Would you just fucking tell me why not?

Because I love you too.

I love you, you twat.

You better not be lying to me. Not about this.

I couldn't bear it. Not from you.

I'm not. I'm telling you what's in my heart. I love ya.

Yeah.

- Are you not gonna throw that? - Oh shit, yeah.

Grenade!

Alpha Team. Alpha Team, respond.

All units converge on front exit. Shoot on sight!

We've got movement at the front exit.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Push and fire. On that car now!

Nice knowing you, dickheads.

Hello, you cunts.

- How is everyone? - What the hell are you doing here?

I followed you, didn't I?

These two arseholes shot up my flat last night.

Sorry.

Yeah, well, tell that to my landlord and my security deposit.

Mrs. Reed, are you okay?

Yes, I'm feeling much better, thank you, Laila.

- Let's go, let's go, let's go. Go! - Run! Everybody, get in the car.

Get in!

Go, go, go, go!

- Fuck! - Hold on!

Would anybody like to shoot those bastards?

- Yes. - Oh, brilliant. It has Bluetooth.

- What you doing? - Putting her murder mix on.

- Her what? - Hold on, wait for it.

We've got a special treat...

What the hell is this?

It's Olly Murs!

Hang on, no, this is not my list.

That's so weird. It must be, connected to my phone.

Can somebody fucking shoot someone?

My name is Olly, nice to meet you...

Can you fucking turn this off?

There's a whole lot of pretty ladies.

But none like you, you shine...

Fuck. Fuck!

I was wondering if you and me Could spend a minute on the floor...

Fuck.

I won't give up without a fight.

I just wanna...

Faster, faster, faster!

I just want you To dance with me...

Come on!

Come on,

Oh, baby.

I just want you To dance with me tonight...

We're getting sweaty...

- Hold on tight, everybody! - Watch out!

Go with it, girl Yeah, just close your eyes.

Are you for fucking real?

I feel the music Moving through your body.

Looking at you, I can tell you want me.

Don't stop Keep going till the morning light.

Yeah, oh, when I saw you there.

Twats!

Yeah.

Sir, Officer Perryman is here.

Thanks, Hannah. Just send him in.

Thank you.

- Mr. Prime Minister. - Jim, come in.

- Thanks for fitting me in. - Not at all. Take a seat.

Sorry, I just need to... I need to finish sending this.

- Are you burning the candle at both ends? - Constantly, Jim.

- Sorry. - Take as long as you need.

- It's the summit tomorrow. It's... - A lot of pressure?

It is. What can I do for you?

I'm so sorry, sir. Commissioner Thomas is downstairs.

Right. Sorry, I'll be right back, Jim.

No problem.

- Commissioner. - Mr. Prime Minister.

- Yeah. - Very quickly.

We have a few images of two individuals we'd like to question from the restaurant.

Great.

I'm afraid as part of our investigation,

we will need to take an official statement from you,

but, of course, that will remain strictly confidential.

Of course.

- Sorry, Wallace. - Sorry, Sam.

Do you recognize either of them, sir?

Could you have these sent across to me? You can arrange with my secretary.

- Of course. - Thank you.

Sorry, Jim.

Yeah, you... You were saying something about...

Your wife's security check.

Yes. What?

So there's a woman.

It's Bonnie Weir.

She did time in prison for the murder of her father back in 2003.

Now, Bonnie had contacted the authorities a number of times

to make a wild claim about a connection to your wife, sir.

- What connection? - She had a mad story.

She said she was Helen's stepsister.

Right.

Said Helen's real name was, Lily Morris,

and that she, Bonnie, now, was doing time for her.

- Doing time? You mean in prison? - In prison, yeah.

Right.

We have to look into these things as a matter of course,

no matter how outlandish.

- And it was dismissed. - Right.

- There was no evidence. - Okay.

Until I was sent a document.

And this is a Social Services report from 2002 mentioning the name Lily Morris.

Don't know who sent it.

That's the only bit of paperwork we could find on that girl.

There's no record of her anywhere else.

There's no school reports. No birth certificate.

There's nothing. Absolutely nothing.

As though all mention of her had been completely erased.

And then a few days ago, I started to receive more.

School report,

doctor's records, census, and...

birth certificate.

Photographs.

All officially non-existent. All deleted from every single file.

This is a person, sir, whose very existence

has been scrubbed out of every official record.

Sorry, what are you saying?

I'm saying, sir, that I'm not 100% sure that your wife is who you think she is.

Who else needs a drink?

In my solitude.

You haunt me...

Oh, it's like...

With reveries.

Of days gone by.

In my solitude.

You taunt me...

Do you still wanna do it?

Do you still want to fight for the life that you've built?

Yes.

No running?

No running.

Okay.

I sit in my chair...

I'm gonna get us a drink.

Filled with despair.

There's no one could be so sad...

Erik Klein.

Melanie Ambrose.

Alexi Chernov.

Zeus,

Spitfire,

Cowboy.

Wildflower.

I know that I'll soon go mad...

Today wasn't a rescue, was it?

No.

In my solitude...

I have to finish it.

I'm praying...

So what's the plan?

We're gonna drink our drinks.

Oh, dear lord above...

And then we'll go for a walk.

That priest in Italy, remember? You wanted to know what he did.

Well, before he took up the cloth, he was like you.

A killer.

A good one too.

Murdered the wrong man one day, had to run.

Ran all the way to that little church, that little village.

Took us years to catch up with him.

Send back my love...

I should have let you stay retired, Sam.

We'd all have lived longer.

Filled with despair.

No one could...

Thanks.

So sad...

What a fucking day.

With gloom everywhere...

I told her.

Followed my heart.

It was good advice in the end. You know.

You two together?

Yeah. Yeah, we just started, actually.

That's cool.

Always wanted to be a lesbian.

So you've got a contract out on me, yeah?

- Yeah, sorry. - It's all right.

You should know I'm pretty hard to kill.

Well, we'll see, won't we?

You might wanna be careful what jobs you take on.

I've got loyalty to one person. Everyone else is on the table.

He'll be hard to kill too.

Yeah.

- Yes? - Hello, Sam.

Do you have the package?

Yes.

Then you know what to do.

I thought I'd also make you aware that there's a bounty out on your head.

I believe you know the two women that have taken the contract.

I'm just reminding you

that friendship is a delicate thing in our business.

Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to?

Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?

Where you gonna run to?

Time for me to leave.

We got to run to the rock...

Sam's going to walk me home.

I run to the rock.

Please hide me, I run to the rock.

Please hide me, Lord.

All on that day...

Thank you.

The rock cried out.

"I can't hide you," the rock cried out.

"I can't hide you," the rock cried out.

"I ain't gonna hide you there".

All on that day

I said, "Rock".

"What's the matter with you, rock?"

"Don't you see I need you, rock?"

Lord, Lord, Lord.

All on that day.

So I run to the river.

It was bleeding, I run to the sea.

It was bleeding

I run to the sea.

It was bleeding, all on that day.

So I run to the river.

It was boiling, I run to the sea.

It was boiling, all on that day.

So I run to the Lord.

"Please hide me, Lord".

"Don't you see me praying?"

"Don't you see me down here praying?"

But the Lord said.

"Go to the devil," the Lord said.

"Go to the devil".

He said, "Go to the devil".

All on that day.

So I ran to the devil.

He was waiting, I ran to the devil.

He was waiting, I ran to the devil