A thousand years go by,
I try to find some solitude.
Broken buildings,
broken bottles associate with you.

I am still angry, and I still have a voice.
You can believe I'm going to use it.
It's been raining far too long.
I'm not the one that's so fucked up.
Not too much anyhow.

Politics to match the fear showing through your heart.
Cut me down to size,
criticisms just to keep me quiet.

I am still angry, and I still have a voice.
You can believe I'm going to use it.
It's been raining far too long.
I'm not the one that's so fucked up.
Not too much anyhow.

Your heart is upside down,
too confused to know which way is up.
No amount of denying will fill that pessimistic void.

I am still angry, and I still have a voice.
You can believe I'm going to use it.
It's been raining far too long.
I'm not the one that's so fucked up.
Not too much anyhow.