I say you're messing me around You say I'm getting out of hand
I'm sick of the coutry Sick of the town Sick of the future It's getting me down
I say the future's going to last You say there's nothing 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 complements A discontent that efferents An enptyness or nothingness that's heaven sent
I'm sick of the coutry Sick of the town Sick of the future It's getting me down
I say, and you say I say, and you say I say it's getting me down
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