words they bother me to no end    to no end    always    bad news, bad luck, bad weather    bad weather yea...    and i wish you wouldn't talk so much    talk so much    than maybe things would get better    things would be better yea yea..    oooh.....    songs filling up the room    still you don't hear,    can't hear,    won't listen    if you could only understand    only understand    that I'm    sure that things will get better    yea...    get better yea yea...       why do i work so hard    why do i work so    hard    why do i work    so hard....       all alone    conversations are driving me insane    with quiet complications    desperately in vain    i listen    i scream    I laugh out loud at myself    watching myself    playing with myself    as everyone can see    the scarecrow is me       money i will never let you go    except as trade    to buy things    get things    go places    its you    my intuition    yea my intuition yea...    there is no possible way    that things could be better    no things won't be better woah...       why do i work so hard    why do i work so    hard    why do i works so hard    why do i work    so hard...    yea yea...