The Story: Don't eat the fruit in the garden, Eden,, It wasn't in God's natural plan., You were only a rib,, And look at what you did,, To Adam, the father of Man.
The Story: You smell like goat, I'll see you in hell
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Real Lyric: Spider Murphy played the tenor saxophone the whole rhythm section was the purple gang
The Misheard: sad Sam was sitting on the microscopethe whole rhythm sasquatch the purple gang
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Real Lyric: A prettier package you never did see Take me home and they unwrap me
The Misheard: A prettier fat kid you never did seeTake me home and they're all around me
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Real Lyric: Hold on to 16 as long as you can, changes come around real soon make us women and man
The Misheard: Hold on to 60 as long as you can changes come around real soon make us swimming in men
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Real Lyric: Glitter on The Mattress
The Misheard: Glitter on the night train
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Real Lyric: A voice keeps whisperin' in my other ear, tells me I may never see you again.
The Misheard: A voice keeps whisperin' in my underwear, tells me I may never see you again.
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Real Lyric: As long as the room keeps singing That's just the business I'm in, yeah This ain't a scene, it's a goddamned arms race This ain't a scene, it's a goddamned arms race This ain't a scene, it's a goddamned arms race I'm not a shoulder to cry on But I digress I'm a leading man And the lies I weave are oh so intricate, Oh so intricate I wrote the gospel on giving up (You look pretty sinking) But the real bombshells have already sunk (Prima donnas of the gutter) At night we're painting your trash gold while you sleep Crashing not like hips or cars*, No, more like p-p-p-parties
The Misheard: As long as the room keeps spinningThat's just a business hobby, yeahThis ain't a ceiling it's a god damn arse-face...I'm not a shovel to lie on, but I dye grassI'm a little man, and I'm also evil, also into cats, also
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Real Lyric: Cause heaven ain't close in a place like this I said heaven ain't close in a place like this
The Misheard: Cause havin' eight clothes in a place like thisI said havin' eight clothes in a place like this
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Real Lyric: I bleed it out, digging deeper to just throw it away
The Misheard: I figured out, it'd be cheaper to just throw it away
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Real Lyric: Wooah, we're halfway there/Livin' on a prayer
The Misheard: Oh, we're head waiting/Livin' on a prayer
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Real Lyric: Wearing her high-heel shoes And her low-neck sweater
The Misheard: Wearing her high-heel shoesAnd I loathe that sweater
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