| Don’t know if I should quite sing this song. |
| Don’t know if it maybe might be wrong, |
| But then again it maybe might be right |
| To tell you 'bout the bullet and the red light. |
| |
| You know I'm not from this place |
| I'm from a different time, different space, |
| And it's real uncomfortable |
| To be stuck somewhere |
| You just don't belong. |
| |
| But I got eight good reasons to stick around, |
| Eight good reasons, |
| Well, maybe nine now. |
| |
| I had a dream one night |
| About a bullet and a red light |
| You know, it felt alright. |
| You know, it actually felt quite nice. |
| If I could have gone |
| Without it hurting anyone, |
| Like a child, I would have found me mum, |
| Like a bird, I would have been flown. |
| |
| You know I don't much like life. |
| I don't mind admitting that it ain't right. |
| You know I love to make music, |
| But my head got wrecked by the business-- |
| Everybody wanting something from me, |
| They rarely ever wanna just know me. |
| I became the stranger no one sees. |
| Cut glass, I've crawled upon my knees, |
| But I got eight good reasons to stick around, |
| Eight good reasons, |
| Well, maybe nine now. |
