| Welcome to the other side of the tracks
|
| Where we starve for a high
|
| And find love
|
| In all the wrong places
|
| This is the place of real nightmares
|
| And every thing’s a mistake
|
| Welcome to the other side of the tracks
|
| Here is a man
|
| A man that stands before me
|
| And I can smell Hell on his breath
|
| And his eyes
|
| His eyes
|
| His eyes
|
| Cut right through me
|
| His smile reads of death
|
| Everything he says, he says with such intentions
|
| Of replacing any recognition
|
| Of anything you knew
|
| And
|
| Nobody wins
|
| Nobody wins
|
| Nobody wins
|
| Nobody wins
|
| The end is near I can feel it on my neck
|
| Caused by the belief in second hand grace
|
| He’ll be there won’t he?
|
| He’ll be there won’t he?
|
| To call this conflict
|
| Call it lust
|
| Call it something
|
| Call it dust
|
| And he’ll be there won’t he?
|
| I am free to taste this fruit
|
| With a sword and an armored suit
|
| Welcome to the other side of the tracks
|
| Where we starve for a high
|
| And find love
|
| In all the wrong
|
| All the wrong
|
| Places
|
| This is the place of real nightmares
|
| And every thing’s a mistake
|
| Welcome to the other side of the tracks
|
| Here is a man
|
| A man that stands before me
|
| And I can smell Hell on his breath
|
| And his eyes
|
| His eyes
|
| Cut right through me
|
| Everything he says, he says with such intentions
|
| Of replacing any recognition
|
| And
|
| Nobody wins
|
| Nobody wins
|
| Tuck coat tails and run… |