Sordid Lives lyrics
by Olivia Newton-John



Now, who's to judge who's a saint and who's a sinner?

Lord it's tough enough to trudge from brunch to dinner.

We seek the light of truth between our white lies.

And sleep away our youth under tattle-tale skies.



Now, who's to say who's a sinner and who's a saint?

Who's to say who you can love and who you can't?

Now, it's easy for the pot to call the kettle black

When jealous of the hot 'n lusty sordid lives they lack.



Ain't it a bitch sortin' out our sordid lives?

It's a bitch when you come to realize,

Crack yerself a box of Cracker Jack

You could get a really shitty prize!

It's a bitch sortin' out our sordid lives.



We struggle comin' down the chute to take our first breath.

Then we struggle for acceptance from birth to death.

But the Lord's too busy tryin' to keep the world on its feet.

He ain't got time to give a damn 'bout what goes on between the sheets.



Ain't it a bitch sortin' out our sordid lives?

It's a bitch when you come to realize,

Crack yerself a box of Cracker Jack

You could get a really shitty prize!

It's a bitch sortin' out our sordid lives!



---------------------------------



Sordid Lives [reprise]





When the Lord dips us in the gene pool,

We get more than Granny's green eyes.

We get our Mama's warmth,

Our Daddy's cool,

And that thang between our thighs.

And that's the start of all these troubles

In our sordid lives.



Ain't it a bitch sortin' out our sordid lives?

It's a bitch when you come to realize,

Crack yerself a box of Cracker Jack

You could get a really shitty prize!

It's a bitch sortin' out our sorry little sordid lives!