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 ass,
So paranoid,
Watch your back!

Oh my, here we go.
Another loose 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 by crying 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. (For yourself?)

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 crying 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. (For yourself?)

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,
When you gonna wake up and fight…

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?)

When you gonna wake up and fight… (For yourself?)
When you gonna wake up and fight… (For yourself?)
When you gonna wake up and fight… (For yourself?)

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