The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
I've been down this corridor -
Before you enter you have to bring
Back the creator of winter damn,
Too late I'm spoiled, I need the napalm
I got it, I shot it in my left sector,
Blew up the timing device on the reactor.
Time shifted I had to remold the floor
The foundation for creation - mate's blend
The pleasure dome into another roam -
A walk stalked nightly by the ogre
That's rarely sober. but there's no tracin
I see the place in the flow. I'm beyond dawn,
No I'm not in the lawn under pawns -
Don't rest, never possessed stagnate magnets.
I never pulled slits lips wit no braille skilled eyes -
Balls through eyesockets. I'm currently current
Currents of electricity; they can't get wit me
Invisible to the retina half - way reality part limbo.
A nervous laugh while ya climbin through windows,
Never spin ho's on merry-go-rounds,
Be the ground level for ghouls, schools of fish,
Victims on a hit list me like geronimo on a pratt -
Tackle patt tacklin patterns addin in seasonings, flavor.
No false teeth for beef, catapulting fingers to light
Switches so you can see the real, I feel the tension
My sight twitches - I'm bent.
Second scene: I'm the star in a step show
Around corners, the coroner's office;
Where my rep grows. I'm on some sort of drug
Like the president, it's evident that I'm noid,
A little bit of pizza - the riddle gets deeper.
I'm lookin for outs n ins, stolen isotonas,
The gloves, the bout begins three jabs on a transport
It's a sport for me to take another life on landing,
Branding wit a prattle prod designed by god.
It's my job to resign frauds,
The odd is against you got a degree in me,
So I know that I flow, credentials are essential -
It's blasphemy the type of shit they be askin me.
I don't feel the vibe, abstract art the veal
Doesn't heal this deprived stomach from a plummet.
Swinging on a duet with the bullet.
I never pull out for suspense - I'm on a bent mission.
Jack cousteau couldn't take it no deeper -
I'm a resident in davey jones micro-locker
Holds the phone, foamin at the mouth:
Mad dog, a taste, never had hog I'm droppin
The scrooge, makin fools hit the log - axe it.
I seen it beneath where the cowards hope
Trembled sleeper see if you can find the lost
Treasure through measures in bars - I'm bent.
Before you enter you have to bring
Back the creator of winter damn,
Too late I'm spoiled, I need the napalm
I got it, I shot it in my left sector,
Blew up the timing device on the reactor.
Time shifted I had to remold the floor
The foundation for creation - mate's blend
The pleasure dome into another roam -
A walk stalked nightly by the ogre
That's rarely sober. but there's no tracin
I see the place in the flow. I'm beyond dawn,
No I'm not in the lawn under pawns -
Don't rest, never possessed stagnate magnets.
I never pulled slits lips wit no braille skilled eyes -
Balls through eyesockets. I'm currently current
Currents of electricity; they can't get wit me
Invisible to the retina half - way reality part limbo.
A nervous laugh while ya climbin through windows,
Never spin ho's on merry-go-rounds,
Be the ground level for ghouls, schools of fish,
Victims on a hit list me like geronimo on a pratt -
Tackle patt tacklin patterns addin in seasonings, flavor.
No false teeth for beef, catapulting fingers to light
Switches so you can see the real, I feel the tension
My sight twitches - I'm bent.
Second scene: I'm the star in a step show
Around corners, the coroner's office;
Where my rep grows. I'm on some sort of drug
Like the president, it's evident that I'm noid,
A little bit of pizza - the riddle gets deeper.
I'm lookin for outs n ins, stolen isotonas,
The gloves, the bout begins three jabs on a transport
It's a sport for me to take another life on landing,
Branding wit a prattle prod designed by god.
It's my job to resign frauds,
The odd is against you got a degree in me,
So I know that I flow, credentials are essential -
It's blasphemy the type of shit they be askin me.
I don't feel the vibe, abstract art the veal
Doesn't heal this deprived stomach from a plummet.
Swinging on a duet with the bullet.
I never pull out for suspense - I'm on a bent mission.
Jack cousteau couldn't take it no deeper -
I'm a resident in davey jones micro-locker
Holds the phone, foamin at the mouth:
Mad dog, a taste, never had hog I'm droppin
The scrooge, makin fools hit the log - axe it.
I seen it beneath where the cowards hope
Trembled sleeper see if you can find the lost
Treasure through measures in bars - I'm bent.
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Bent Lyrics as written by Various
Lyrics © CONEXION MEDIA GROUP, INC.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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