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It makes you so angry, you rage and rage again |
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But you can't spit it outside, it's bottled in your brain |
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You feel it in the darkness, the rage inside you grow |
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And you know you're a stranger in the room below |
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There are no words to say |
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Just what it is you mean |
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But if you feel it's real, it's real, it's real |
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It makes you so angry, why can't they see red? |
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Can no one else imagine what can't be said? |
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You try to put it over but that gets you nowhere |
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You wouldn't have to bother if you didn't care |
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And there are no words to say |
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Just what it is you mean |
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But if you feel it's real, it's real, it's real |
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And as for all the rest, they think you're in a mess |
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And say that the know best |
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But you know better, you keep your temper |
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It proves that you're still alive |
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It makes you so angry, a rage that's all your own |
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It makes you feel so lonely but you're not alone |
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For I still feel it that way and he and she do, too |
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And it's enough for us to know that it's enough to know |
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There are no words to say |
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Just what it is you mean |
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But if you feel it's real, it's real, it's real |
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What you feel is real |
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What you feel is real |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
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You're not the only one |
