A man gets out of bed
Walks across the room
Sits down puts on his shoes
Opens up the daily paper
And reads the morning news
In the other room
His wife's still lying in bed
She's been dead for over six hours
With a bullet hole in her head
You don't believe me
Come round sometime and see where we live
On the other side of town
There's a young man
Living in a roach motel
In front of him there's a copy
Of the Anarchist Cook book
He's trying to figure out
How to build a bomb
While free basing on cocaine
And fantasising about
The next door neighbour's mom
You don't believe me
Truth is stranger than fiction
Across the wasteland
Of loneliness and despair
The broken bottles and tin cans
And alligators living in the sewer
The sun slowly rises
And the good people of world
Drive their cars along life's highway
Looking for a place called work
Moving from city to city
In search of something better
Relying on the kindness of strangers
To pursue your hopes and dreams
Living out of a suitcase
You take another shot of vodka
You put the barrel of a gun into your month
And hope the journey ends
There's a strange family
Living down the street
In a boarded up house
With a padlock on the gate
They've got a young girl
Tied up in the basement
Beaten and staved for weeks
But no one's got the nerve
To contact the police
You don't believe me
Come round sometime and see where we live
A man gets home from work
Unlocks the door to his apartment
And finds his wife asleep in the bath
She's taken an overdose of sleeping pills
He pushes her head under the water
And then sits down watches TV
Tomorrow morning he call for an ambulance
But for now he's living free
You don't believe me
Truth is stranger than fiction
Me - Stranger Than Fiction Lyrics
Me - Stranger Than Fiction Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
A man gets out of bed
Walks across the room
Sits down puts on his shoes
Opens up the daily paper
And reads the morning news
In the other room
His wife's still lying in bed
She's been dead for over six hours
With a bullet hole in her head
You don't believe me
Come round sometime and see where we live
On the other side of town
There's a young man
Living in a roach motel
In front of him there's a copy
Of the Anarchist Cook book
He's trying to figure out
How to build a bomb
While free basing on cocaine
And fantasising about
The next door neighbour's mom
You don't believe me
Truth is stranger than fiction
Across the wasteland
Of loneliness and despair
The broken bottles and tin cans
And alligators living in the sewer
The sun slowly rises
And the good people of world
Drive their cars along life's highway
Looking for a place called work
Moving from city to city
In search of something better
Relying on the kindness of strangers
To pursue your hopes and dreams
Living out of a suitcase
You take another shot of vodka
You put the barrel of a gun into your month
And hope the journey ends
There's a strange family
Living down the street
In a boarded up house
With a padlock on the gate
They've got a young girl
Tied up in the basement
Beaten and staved for weeks
But no one's got the nerve
To contact the police
You don't believe me
Come round sometime and see where we live
A man gets home from work
Unlocks the door to his apartment
And finds his wife asleep in the bath
She's taken an overdose of sleeping pills
He pushes her head under the water
And then sits down watches TV
Tomorrow morning he call for an ambulance
But for now he's living free
You don't believe me
Truth is stranger than fiction
Walks across the room
Sits down puts on his shoes
Opens up the daily paper
And reads the morning news
In the other room
His wife's still lying in bed
She's been dead for over six hours
With a bullet hole in her head
You don't believe me
Come round sometime and see where we live
On the other side of town
There's a young man
Living in a roach motel
In front of him there's a copy
Of the Anarchist Cook book
He's trying to figure out
How to build a bomb
While free basing on cocaine
And fantasising about
The next door neighbour's mom
You don't believe me
Truth is stranger than fiction
Across the wasteland
Of loneliness and despair
The broken bottles and tin cans
And alligators living in the sewer
The sun slowly rises
And the good people of world
Drive their cars along life's highway
Looking for a place called work
Moving from city to city
In search of something better
Relying on the kindness of strangers
To pursue your hopes and dreams
Living out of a suitcase
You take another shot of vodka
You put the barrel of a gun into your month
And hope the journey ends
There's a strange family
Living down the street
In a boarded up house
With a padlock on the gate
They've got a young girl
Tied up in the basement
Beaten and staved for weeks
But no one's got the nerve
To contact the police
You don't believe me
Come round sometime and see where we live
A man gets home from work
Unlocks the door to his apartment
And finds his wife asleep in the bath
She's taken an overdose of sleeping pills
He pushes her head under the water
And then sits down watches TV
Tomorrow morning he call for an ambulance
But for now he's living free
You don't believe me
Truth is stranger than fiction
Writer: Mark Poynter
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid