| F | C | | I was | spending my time in the | doldrums |
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| F | C | | I was | caught in a cauldron of | hate |
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| F | C | Am | | I felt | persecuted and | para | lysed |
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| G | F | | I | thought that everything else would just | wait |
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While you are wasting your time on your enemies |
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Engulfed in a fever of spite |
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Beyond your tunnel vision reality fades |
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Like shadows into the night |
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To martyr yourself to caution |
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Is not going to help at all |
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Because there'll be no safety in numbers |
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When the Right One walks out of the door |
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| C | G | | Can you | see your days blighted by | darkness? |
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| C | G | | Is it | true you beat your fists on the | floor? |
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| C | G | Em | | Stuck in a world of | iso | lation |
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| D | C | | While the | ivy grows over the | door |
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So I open my doors to my enemies |
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And I ask could we wipe the slate clean |
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But the tell me please go fuck myself |
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You know you just can't win |
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