In a violent place We can call our country Theres a mixed up man And i guess thats me The sun's in the sky But the storm no seems to end. Its a place of sorrow That we call it a home In the darkest thoughts Yeah, i guess thier my own There is welth in the bank But there is nothing sure inside. Its cloudy now its getting cloudy now In a speacial place That i call my life My father is cruel and he lost his wife But i don't see either Cause i live a cross the street Its a beautiful thing when it starts to rain The man who drinks Just to drown the pain And i can't stop from dreaming Of something else. Its cloudy now its getting cloudy now. Its cloudy now its getting cloudy now. (Shout) We are a fucked up generation Its couldy now