| The neon streets are empty
|
| And moon’s my only light
|
| Running in from the shadows
|
| But there’s no running from the fight
|
| We’ll find no pity for you city fools
|
| Where the shotgun makes the rules
|
| In the Badlands
|
| There’s a bad moon shining down
|
| Badlands (Badlands)
|
| Honey, we don’t fool around
|
| Well, your mama can’t protect you
|
| And you’re the apple of her eye
|
| When the strange, hanging blues come to ya
|
| It’s time to do or die
|
| It doesn’t matter which is quicker
|
| Cyanide or sweet, sweet liquor
|
| In the Badlands
|
| There’s a bad moon shining down
|
| Badlands (Badlands)
|
| Ooh, honey, we don’t fool around
|
| I’m in the Badlands (Badlands)
|
| I don’t know who I am
|
| Badlands (Badlands)
|
| You’re really finding all you can
|
| It doesn’t matter which is quicker
|
| Cyanide or sweet, sweet liquor
|
| In the Badlands
|
| In the Badlands (Badlands)
|
| Dead moon from the south
|
| Badlands (Badlands)
|
| Ooh, honey, we don’t fuck around
|
| I’m in the Badlands (Badlands)
|
| Badlands (Badlands)
|
| B-b-b-b-b-badlands (Badlands)
|
| Badlands, ooh-oh
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Bad |