Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't apologize so much That it's jive it's a crutch I just used when I'm judged Bein' fudged by a face I can't erase and can't see Cuz I misplaced a dossier or Monty Python CD Or somethin' stupid like that But jesus is that so bad To make my ego go splat Like a tire goin' flat Or fat on a big mac I'm bein' attacked Tit for tat You f**in' bureaucrats You can just apologize back [bridge] But I don't know when it comes and it goes All the highs and the lows In this motionless psychosis Ieeieei and I die fadin' straight away Ieeieei and I cry every waking day I don't know what else to say [chorus] I'm sorry for the mess The stupid way I'm dressed I guess I failed my test Oh don't you know I'm sorry for my views I musta been confused And yet you know that really I'm sorry for you Well now I don't mean to offend, much Just comprehend When you're female and you're fenced in and Phen-phened to no end And no zen guide to men will help you fend off the brethren And then the pen appears And better than the oxygen network Or the sword or the spear or the fork Or the bored pork-fed horde It's a mooring post The who*e you'll miss the most when you're away When you're in Snowshoe PA Doin' some play from Backstage That deals with AIDS and race and gays and Relationships and ballet And then you're like "hey yay what'd you say? I can just sing my troubles away?" But then you're f**ed 'cause you gotta make a buck And the whole world s**s And you're like a lame duck That's lyin' dyin' tryin' to sell out But there's no one buyin' and there's all this doubt And you can preen and dream and scream and shot But your life's affliction is the fiction of Faust [bridge] I'm sorry for the time The stupid way I rhyme I knew I shoulda chose a life of crime I'm sorry for my blues I know it's all old news And yet you know that really I'm sorry for you I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I also mirror this apology This idealogy of sorry In part of the liberal theology that's leading us to hari-kari It's like a mythology, almost Like a malingering ghost As we slowly decompose Writing in the grave of the polls Cryin' for Senator Wellstone and then proceeding to moan At our own supposed sabotage of the elections at home "oh somebody phone home! The American people have spoken!" Now is that certain? Maybe those nice Midwestern folks were just jokin' In any case there's no use in dopin' chokin' mopin' and sobbin' Come on you disheartenin' dobbins Sayin' sorry is my problem So to conclude I'm a little of a prude So it's difficult for me to have to allude To all this rude crude verbal baggage But I manage cuz I'm a savage inside I may listen to Enya's greatest hits And try to control my hissy fits with pride Won't get my hair dyed But oh the onus of lyin' all the time I don't wanna say, "diiiie motherf**er!" But I wouldn't mind if you did Sometimes even the nice girl's ego has to override the id And so before I flip my lid my crib And get myself out of this bind You can hear what's on my lips but you don't know What's in my mind [chorus] I'm sorry for you I'm sorry for you I'm sorry Waaaah