Born on the Wrong Side of Town
🎵 1484 characters
⏱️ 4:26 duration
🆔 ID: 27588699
📜 Lyrics
I fixed my eye on a golden pie
But I can’t take a bite
I spent my roll on a dream made up
Of pure insane delight
There’s an angel singing in my ear
But I’m immune to joy
Bells are ringing somewhere in the void
A cosmic stove has fried my bacon
And left me in a bind
Now eyes behind a death mask are looking for
Bones and teeth to grind
This puzzle I don’t understand
Was clearly made for me
Like a muzzle I’ve been forced to wear by a cold enemy
Who has rolled out a collection of excuses
For a lamb who don’t want to be found
No grand resurrection for a mule who is done
Born on the wrong side of town
No fancy words can spare you from
The pain of breaking vice
It’s no accident or no mistake
When someone tells you twice
Somewhere there’s a place within
A finely tuned machine
That goes round and round
With no stops in between
I hold my nose, count my nickels
And wish away the night
Inside four walls, a popcorn ceiling
That’s painted eggshell white
I’d take a ride if I had a whip
And the gasoline was free
But a moonlit drive with the top down singing
Won’t fix this for me
So no drawn out recollections from the highway
No sliver of truth to be found
No form of protection for a fool on the run
Born on the wrong side of town
So I sold my collection of fine things
Wallowed in cliché and noun
Like a throwback connection to a song over-sung
I was born on the wrong side of town
I was playing the game like a clown
I was born on the wrong side of town
But I can’t take a bite
I spent my roll on a dream made up
Of pure insane delight
There’s an angel singing in my ear
But I’m immune to joy
Bells are ringing somewhere in the void
A cosmic stove has fried my bacon
And left me in a bind
Now eyes behind a death mask are looking for
Bones and teeth to grind
This puzzle I don’t understand
Was clearly made for me
Like a muzzle I’ve been forced to wear by a cold enemy
Who has rolled out a collection of excuses
For a lamb who don’t want to be found
No grand resurrection for a mule who is done
Born on the wrong side of town
No fancy words can spare you from
The pain of breaking vice
It’s no accident or no mistake
When someone tells you twice
Somewhere there’s a place within
A finely tuned machine
That goes round and round
With no stops in between
I hold my nose, count my nickels
And wish away the night
Inside four walls, a popcorn ceiling
That’s painted eggshell white
I’d take a ride if I had a whip
And the gasoline was free
But a moonlit drive with the top down singing
Won’t fix this for me
So no drawn out recollections from the highway
No sliver of truth to be found
No form of protection for a fool on the run
Born on the wrong side of town
So I sold my collection of fine things
Wallowed in cliché and noun
Like a throwback connection to a song over-sung
I was born on the wrong side of town
I was playing the game like a clown
I was born on the wrong side of town
⏱️ Synced Lyrics
[00:05.19] I fixed my eye on a golden pie
[00:08.03] But I can’t take a bite
[00:10.02] I spent my roll on a dream made up
[00:13.43] Of pure insane delight
[00:15.38] There’s an angel singing in my ear
[00:18.86] But I’m immune to joy
[00:20.98] Bells are ringing somewhere in the void
[00:25.10]
[00:27.18] A cosmic stove has fried my bacon
[00:29.78] And left me in a bind
[00:31.78] Now eyes behind a death mask are looking for
[00:35.49] Bones and teeth to grind
[00:37.44] This puzzle I don’t understand
[00:40.57] Was clearly made for me
[00:42.72] Like a muzzle I’ve been forced to wear by a cold enemy
[00:48.21] Who has rolled out a collection of excuses
[00:53.21] For a lamb who don’t want to be found
[00:58.70] No grand resurrection for a mule who is done
[01:05.94] Born on the wrong side of town
[01:11.61]
[01:14.65] No fancy words can spare you from
[01:17.85] The pain of breaking vice
[01:19.97] It’s no accident or no mistake
[01:23.26] When someone tells you twice
[01:25.33] Somewhere there’s a place within
[01:28.58] A finely tuned machine
[01:30.78] That goes round and round
[01:32.78] With no stops in between
[01:36.39] I hold my nose, count my nickels
[01:39.74] And wish away the night
[01:41.99] Inside four walls, a popcorn ceiling
[01:45.26] That’s painted eggshell white
[01:47.14] I’d take a ride if I had a whip
[01:50.38] And the gasoline was free
[01:52.59] But a moonlit drive with the top down singing
[01:56.18] Won’t fix this for me
[01:58.59] So no drawn out recollections from the highway
[02:03.10] No sliver of truth to be found
[02:08.62] No form of protection for a fool on the run
[02:15.86] Born on the wrong side of town
[02:21.58]
[02:45.03] So I sold my collection of fine things
[02:51.19] Wallowed in cliché and noun
[02:56.30] Like a throwback connection to a song over-sung
[03:03.42] I was born on the wrong side of town
[03:07.78] I was playing the game like a clown
[03:14.18] I was born on the wrong side of town
[03:20.70]
[00:08.03] But I can’t take a bite
[00:10.02] I spent my roll on a dream made up
[00:13.43] Of pure insane delight
[00:15.38] There’s an angel singing in my ear
[00:18.86] But I’m immune to joy
[00:20.98] Bells are ringing somewhere in the void
[00:25.10]
[00:27.18] A cosmic stove has fried my bacon
[00:29.78] And left me in a bind
[00:31.78] Now eyes behind a death mask are looking for
[00:35.49] Bones and teeth to grind
[00:37.44] This puzzle I don’t understand
[00:40.57] Was clearly made for me
[00:42.72] Like a muzzle I’ve been forced to wear by a cold enemy
[00:48.21] Who has rolled out a collection of excuses
[00:53.21] For a lamb who don’t want to be found
[00:58.70] No grand resurrection for a mule who is done
[01:05.94] Born on the wrong side of town
[01:11.61]
[01:14.65] No fancy words can spare you from
[01:17.85] The pain of breaking vice
[01:19.97] It’s no accident or no mistake
[01:23.26] When someone tells you twice
[01:25.33] Somewhere there’s a place within
[01:28.58] A finely tuned machine
[01:30.78] That goes round and round
[01:32.78] With no stops in between
[01:36.39] I hold my nose, count my nickels
[01:39.74] And wish away the night
[01:41.99] Inside four walls, a popcorn ceiling
[01:45.26] That’s painted eggshell white
[01:47.14] I’d take a ride if I had a whip
[01:50.38] And the gasoline was free
[01:52.59] But a moonlit drive with the top down singing
[01:56.18] Won’t fix this for me
[01:58.59] So no drawn out recollections from the highway
[02:03.10] No sliver of truth to be found
[02:08.62] No form of protection for a fool on the run
[02:15.86] Born on the wrong side of town
[02:21.58]
[02:45.03] So I sold my collection of fine things
[02:51.19] Wallowed in cliché and noun
[02:56.30] Like a throwback connection to a song over-sung
[03:03.42] I was born on the wrong side of town
[03:07.78] I was playing the game like a clown
[03:14.18] I was born on the wrong side of town
[03:20.70]