Mad World

We are not broadcasting any longer to the streets over yonder, we are calling it quits, yes, quits so as to get some kicks out of getting rid of those pricks you call friends, you know, if only you'd understand that which runs through the eye of my mind, like a runaway freight train, like a soup stain, you'd know then, and only then, that i don't do it like sam wants it, i only look like i do, and this you know is true, and yet you say its not about the rocks and not about the money, but why is it then that the world's soaked in your honey? why take so many chances, why not sit back and take it easy with all them romances? lets face it, you're ugly on the inside and smoking on the out, so why the facade when we're willingly devout?