So pardon me, boys I'm gonna be late I don't have the choice I've got to get into shape It's eight on the nose And I gotta go So pass me my coat I've got to get to the show Ain't got no feelin'

Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice I don't know you But I want you All the more for that Words fall through me And always fool me And I can't react

Anymore anyway Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo But if they'd point the finger at themselves We don't have a choice We don't have a voice There's no choice in freedom There's no voice in freedom Leaders are guilty of nothing They're perfectly insane