When I'm standing in a queue
And there's only carnage in my view
My blood starts boiling and my head implodes
And I have to count to ten
And when I'm walking down the street
I hate the people that I meet
I have to physically stop myself and head for home again
Some days I want to hide and lie alone in bed
It's like I can't escape the voices in my head
At every turn there's always people in my way
That's maybe why I'm getting crazier every day
When I'm sitting at my desk and all I want to do is rest
I'm forced to listen to the mundane fears
Of a weak neurotic man
I often surf upon the net
It's full of folks who crave upset
They must decide if they are friend or foe
Or else they'll have to go
All I want is the quiet life
Some solitude away from all the strife
Why can't they leave me be?
Can't understand why these peasants bother me
Once again I get the blues
Why do I never learn?