Anxiety
by: Morton, McMahon, Marotta

Wake up, wake up, at the bottom of the stairs.
Laid out prone, so vividly unaware
Punctured out neural tissue what can it be,
To be so unhappy, to be unhappy.

It's anxiety and it tearing you to shreds.
Don't die yet, baby, you forgot to make the beds.
It's anxiety and it's really gonna kill you.
It's anxiety, killing you like slow poison.
 
Anxiety. Anxiety. Anxiety. Oh woe is me.

Now something, it's got a hold on, bring in the night,
Breathe on the lines, I would love to be paralyzed
What is the matter, what can it be,
To be so unhappy, to be unhappy,
Maybe you got the rabies and maybe you got the flu,
But you can't try to fix it 'cause you don't know what to do.

Anxiety and it's really gonna kill you.
Anxiety, killing you like very slow poison.

Anxiety.  Anxiety.  Anxiety. Anxiety.

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