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And at the end of every day
When the sky's turned chalk
When the clouds are always late
They're so much later in the fall
Many years have passed me by
Passed me by without a thought
You spoke so badly of yourself
So poorly that it hurt

Dissatisfied

Well, does the devil know your name?
Did he hear your thoughts?
And did he feed your demons full?
Pick them up and help them walk?
Give me the instrument of thought
And let the anger pass away
I'll focus in and face the east
I've got a ringing in my ears

Dissatisfied
Dissatisfied

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