It seems as though I've lived my life
On the bad side of the moon
To stir you dregs in sickness still
Without the rustic spoon.
Common people live with me
Where the light has never shone
And the hermits flock like hummingbirds
To speak in a foreign tongue.
I'm a light year away
From the people who make me stay
Sitting on the bad side of the moon.
There ain't no use for watchdogs here
To justify our ways,
We live our live in manacles
The main cause of our stay.
Exiled here from other worlds
Our sentence comes too soon;
Why should I be made to pay
On the bad side of the moon
