Agitated
by: Morton, McMahon, Marotta

I feel so agitated, so agitated,
Run through a washing machine, agitated.
So agitated, so convoluted
I hate it, I hate it, I'd just like to shoot it.

It's five a.m. and I'm crawling the walls
Waiting for imaginary telephone calls.

You know what I think, I think the whole world stinks.
I don't need no shrink, I just hate it.

Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead,
Just like my cousin Fred.

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