Words by Grace Hayden

Music by Grace Hayden and Preston "Ryan" Normandy

Angry men walk wide, swinging their arms
Brandishing muscles, aiming to harm
The louder they are, the less they know
Think they’re on top cause they can’t see their toes

All the while, right under your nose
They guzzle gas and screw up the roads
Pulling hair and stepping on toes
Speeding right out of control

If you haven’t got a clue
The joke’s all on you
While there’s no safety in traffic signs
Only the lucky few get by

In a cynical world, everyone’s a comedian
Without a sense of humor
Washed out colors, it’s easy to hide
Negative comes out all black and white

Just like a paralyzing disease
That gets you just when you think you’re clean
Even with a polished slate
Some things you can’t hope to escape

Put on your best black suit and tie
Hope it might attract the light
Try to keep your head up high
Only the lucky few get by

When someone knows all your faults
And marks what you say as true or false
They’ll jump at the chance to point you out
Words enter their ears and a glare comes out
The prying eyes behind the blinds
Of all the little toads in disguise
Waiting for a good punch line
Like anvils dropping from the sky
Before you can ever wonder
What it is that’s pulling you under
Cause they’ll only reach the top
Once they see everyone else drop

If you haven’t got a clue
The joke’s all on you
As you walk right off the side
Only the lucky few get by