Living in the belly of the beast
I was polishing the gears for the machine
This picket fenced hypocrisy
Has thrown a box on me
Yeah it was pitch black, now I finally see

Don't have the same dreams as my neighbors
When the grass is dead it's not always greener
Don't drink the things they sell

Backseat driver
Crash survivor
Too late to go the way

Ooh, black sheep in the world of grey