Our mothers are insane 'Cause their mothers are insane Our fathers are insane 'Cause their fathers are insane Everything falls from the top First it bends and then it drops It's always someone else's fault All the people in art business Trying making money with their visions Wearing their white sneakers All the people in art business It's hard for me to talk to you But I need someone I can talk to I keep falling from the top (I bend and I drop) What should I say? (Shame, shame) Harshness confused with strength Kindness mixed with guilt All of these are traps We set up for themselves I feel sick today Who are you gonna call? Tomorrow I'll feel great And then it hits again Hits again, hits again, hits again Hits again, again, again Hits again, hits again, hits again Hits again, again, again