Misheard lyrics (also called mondegreens) occur when people misunderstand the lyrics in a song. These are NOT intentional rephrasing of lyrics, which is called parody.
This page contains all the misheard lyrics for Bat Out Of Hell that have been submitted to this site and the old collection from inthe80s started in 1996.
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A Cilla Black fan on a bike
A silver black phantom bike
And I never saw that sod of turf 'till it was way too late.
And I never saw that sudden curve 'till it was way too late.
And I never saw that sod of turf 'till it was way too late
And I never saw that sudden curve 'till it was way too late
And I never saw that sudden turf 'til it was way too late.
And I never saw that sudden curve 'til it was way too late.
And I never saw the sign by (the) church
'Til it was way too late.
And I never saw that sudden curve
'Til it was way too late.
And I never saw the sign occur
'Til it was way too late.
And I never saw that sudden curve
'Til it was way too late.
And I never saw the sign of a curve 'till it was way too late.
And I never saw that sudden curve 'till it was way too late.
And I never see the sign and turn 'till it's way too late
And I never saw the sudden curve 'till it's way too late
And I never see the slow down turn 'til it's way too late
And I never see the sudden curve 'til it's way too late
And I never see the sodding curb
'Till it's way too late.
And I never seen the sudden curve
'Til it's way too late.
And I never see the sunlight come till it's way too late
And I never see the sudden curve until it's way too late
And I never seen the son of Bill
Til' it's way too late.
I've never seen the sudden curve
'Til it's way too late.
And I think somebody somewhere must have told Annabell.
And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell.
And I'd never seen a sinner turn 'till it's way too late.
And I've never seen the sudden curve 'till it's way too late.
And a b**** who ain't none so bright.
And a blade shining oh so bright.
Born all twisted at the foot of a burning barn.
I'm torn and twisted at the foot of the burning bike.
Gonna hit the highway like a battering ram,
I'm a Cilla Black fan on a bike
Gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
on a silver black phantom bike
I can see my frill caring up the ho
Oh, I can see myself tearing up the road
I was tearin' at the hole faster
Than any other boy has ever done.
I was tearin' up the road faster
Than any other boy has ever gone.
I'm a Cilla Black fan, I'm bi
On a silver-black phantom bike
I'm gona hit the highway like a battering ram
I'm a Cilla Black fan on a bike
I'm gona hit the highway like a battering ram
on a silver black phantom bike
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
I'm a Cilla Black fan on a bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
On a silver black phantom bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram,
like a Cilla Black fan on bike
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram,
like a silver black phantom bike
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
Or a Cilla Black fan on a bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
On a silver black phantom bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
And a Cilla Black fan on a bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
On a silver black phantom bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
Like a Cilla Black fan on bike.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
On a silver black phantom bike.
I'm torn and twisted at the foot of the Berlin wall.
I'm torn and twisted at the foot of the burning bike.
I've never seen the son of turds 'til it's way too late
I've never seen the sudden curve 'til it's way too late
Like a Cilla Black fan on a bike.
On a silver black phantom bike.
Like a bat out of Wuhan
I'll be scoffed when the morning comes
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the money comes
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes
Like a battery hen, I'll be gone when the mornin' comes.
Like a bat out of Hell, I'll be gone when the morning comes.
Like a battery hen,
I'll be gone when the morning comes
Like a bat out of Hell,
I'll be gone when the morning comes
Oh, I swear
I saw a young boy
Down in the gutter
He was styrofoam in the heat.
Oh, I swear
I saw a young boy
Down in the gutter
He was starting to foam in the heat.
Pure and the gunner on the right.
Pure and good and right
So if I've gotta be dance
You know I wanna be dancin'
Dancin' to the nightly news.
So if I've gotta be damned
You know I wanna be damned
Dancin' through the night with you.
Then I'm down at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun.
Then I'm dying at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun.
Then like a sinner before the gates of Heaven I'll give Omicron back to you
Then like a sinner before the gates of Heaven I'll come crawling on back to you
When the Mennan is hot, and the engine is cold, and I'm hoggin' up the seat all night
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry and we're all about to see the light
When the metal is hot and the engine is hung
And we're all about to see the night.
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry
And we're all about to see the light.
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry
And I know I'll never sleep all night
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry
And we're all about to see the light
and I never saw the sodding curve til it was way too late
And I never saw that sudden curve 'til it was way too late.
A Cilla black fan on ice
A silver black phantom bike
And I never saw that Sunoco 'til it was way too late.
And I never saw that sudden curve till it was way too late.
And I never saw the "side on" curve till it was way too late
And I've never seen the sudden curve till it's way too late.
And I never see the side of the curb til it's way to late
I've never seen the sudden curve
'Til it's way too late.
And I never see the sight of her till it's way too late
And I never see the sudden curve till it's way too late
I'm a Cilla Black fan almighty
A silver black phantom bike
I'm a Cilla Black fan gone by
A silver black phantom bike
I'm a Cilla Black fan on ice
A silver black phantom bike
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
Gonna set a black fan on fire
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
On a silver-black phantom bike
Nothing ever grows in this rotten old hole
And everything is runnin' at a loss
Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole
And everything is stunted and lost
Oh and down in the tunnel where the deadly arise
I know I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter
Oh and down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising
Oh, I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter
Oh and down in the tunnel with the deadly horizon
Oh and down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising
Oh, I can see myself tearing at the road
Faster than any other boy has ever gone
And my skin is raw, but my soul is rife
And no one's gonna stop me now
I'm gonna make my stake
Oh, I can see myself tearing up the road
Faster than any other boy has ever gone
And my skin is raw, but my soul is ripe
And no one's gonna stop me now
I'm gonna make my escape
The silence is screaming
The sirens are screaming
The sirens are screaming and the farts are howling way down in the valley tonight
The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling way down in the valley tonight
There's a man in the shadows with the gum in his eye
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning barn,
And I think somebody somewhere must be talking to me
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike,
And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell
Way down in the bayou tonight
Way down in the valley tonight
Well I can see myself tearin' at the road, faster
Than any other boy has ever gone
Well I can see myself tearing up the road, faster
Than any other boy has ever gone
And I think somebody somewhere must be taunting a bear
And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell