The workers bang their hammers
Shots are on the screen
Carwheels are all squeeking
As the red turn into green
Oh I'm sick of all these noises
So I'll lock the door to my secret room
The flowers take the water
The bank takes the alarm
Rich men got the money
Women get the charm
Oh I'm sick of these divisions
So I'll lock the door to my secret room
Today the sun shines brightly
And I'm feeling good
Yesterday a cloud cast
Shadows on my mood
Oh I'm sick of expressing my feelings in public
So I'll lock the door to my secret room