Yeah i get it you're an outkast
always under attack,
always coming in last,
bringing up the past.
No one owes you anything.
I think you need a shot gun blast,
a kick in the ***
watch your back!

Oh my, here we go

Another loose cannon, gone bipolar
slipped down, couldn't get much lower.
Quicksand's got no since of humor
i'm still laughing like hell.

You think that the crying to me
lookin so sorry that i'm gonna believe,
you've been affected by a social disease
well then take your medicine.

*Chorus*
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

For yourself?

I'm so sick of the tombstone mentality
if there's an afterlife then it'll set you free
but i'm not gonna part the seas of
your self-fullfilling prophecy

You think that the crying to me
looking so sorry that i'm gonna believe
you've been affected by a social disease
well then take your medicine

*chorus til the end*