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