Yeah, I get it you're an outcast Always under attack always coming in last Bringing up the past no one owes you anything I think you need a shotgun blast a kick in the *** So paranoid Watch your back!
Oh my, here we go
Another lose cannon, gone bi-polar Slipped down, couldn't get much lower Quicksand's got no sense of humor I'm still laughing like hell You think that the cryin' to me Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe You've been infected by a social disease Well, then take your medicine
I created the sound of madness Wrote the book on pain Somehow I'm still here to explain That the darkest hour never comes in the night You can sleep with a gun When you gonna wake up and fight?
I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality If there's an afterlife then it'll set you free But I'm not gonna part the seas You're a self-fulfilling prophecy You think that cryin' to me Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe You've been infected by a social disease Well, then take your medicine