You look so strung out,
looking over your back.
You’re paranoid,
common sense is what you lack.
The ticking clocks,
They sing their tune.
The walls have rats in them,
you need to get out of this room.
It seems I’m trying,
to keep the world from dying.
can’t seem to find it,
superstitious riots.
You’re a hypocrite,
sitting in your golden house.
The fire burns brightly,
can you get out?
You see I’m paranoid,
no better than the rest.
I can’t stop this,
give the world my best.
It seems I’m always trying,
to keep the world from dying.
I can’t seem to find it,
sleepless in the quiet.
