Tip-toed metalheads on molasses

I find myself skipping classes now

And someone is a busy bee

My hangups hung up on me

And anytime, anytime, anytime, anytime that you ask me

I'll answer back answer back answer back, answer back

"I am fine"

And you'll know the truth, know the truth, know the truth, know the truth: I am lying

I'm alone here on this island just the same

Lonely kids with stretched elastic

Find themselves with broken hearts, switch now

You're giving me the third degree

And on this third degree burn

Wе're calling up, calling up, calling up, calling long luck line

And I'm without, I'm without, I'm without, I'm without some bеtter luck

And do you want, do you want, do you want, do you want, buried in plastic

And now I know it's just the same

Third world dictators fed on bread

And nothing else was ever said to me

Geographic guys hate me