i say youre messing me around
and you say its gettin outa hand
i’m sick of the country
sick of the town
im sick of the future
it;s gettin me down
i say the future’s gonna last
you say there’s nothin in the past
i’m sick of the government
sick of the police
sick of the boredom
i want release
i can recall a strange event
i gave you nothing with my compliments
a discontent that efferents an emptiness
and nothingness that’s heaven sent
(solo)
i say ,and you say
i say, and you say
i say
its getting me down
