sometimes i think of old friends
but they all seem the same
then i see them, and they can`t remember my name
i guess i`m just like them, i guess i`m just a bore
i could hate them, but i`ve never done that before
i`ve got lots of good friends, i don`t need any more
and sometimes when you lie to me
sometimes i`ll lie to you
and there isn`t a thing you could possibly do
all these half destroyed lives
aren`t as bad as the seem
and then i see blood and i hear people scream
then i wake up and it`s just another bad dream
[chorus]
and i can`t help myself by feeling sorry
because i gave up every chance i had
it`s not a movement, it`s just another fad
like a cry for help in a world gone mad