From the album Running Away
This is a flight fantasy that refuses to name what it's fleeing. The song loops 'running away' seventeen times but never says where to or why beyond 'noise and voices.' That gap between urgent escape and total vagueness about the destination turns this into a song about the need to run, not the place you're running toward.
Hold out your hands / Come and dance with me
The invitation is physical but the image is wrong. Dancing requires staying put. The hand-holding happens before the running starts, like he needs her agreement before the escape can feel real.
From all the noise and the voices / Long overdue
Plural voices, no faces. The threat is atmospheric, not specific. 'Long overdue' means they should have left already, but it also admits they haven't, which makes the present-tense 'we're running away' sound more like rehearsal than action.
Darling you bring out the best in me / You make me who I want to be
He needs her to become himself, which undercuts the self-determination the escape is supposed to deliver. The fantasy only works if she comes with him. Alone, he's just a guy who lost his mind.
That good time, that sunshine / Hard to define / I lost my mind
The promised life dissolves into fragments. 'Hard to define' is the only honest line in the song. He admits he doesn't know what they're running toward, and 'I lost my mind' sits uncomfortably next to 'we're starting anew.' Is this clarity or collapse? I'm not sure he knows.
Running away, I'm running away / Running away, I'm running away
The switch from 'we're' to 'I'm' happens so quietly you almost miss it. By the end, she's disappeared from the escape. He's alone in the loop, still insisting they can't turn back from a place they never actually left.
By the end, the 'we' has become 'I,' and the running has no destination beyond itself. The song doesn't resolve whether this is liberation or compulsion. It just keeps circling the idea of escape until the escape becomes the only thing left.