2003-02-18 - 4:11 p.m.

Mad World

from Donnie Darko

(NOT the TFF version)

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places, worn out faces

Bright and early for their daily races

Going nowhere, going nowhere

And their tears are filling up their glasses

No expression, no expression

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow

No tommorow, no tommorow

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

'Cos I find it hard to take

When people run in circles

It's a very, very

Mad World

Children waiting for the day they feel good

Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday

Made to feel the way that every child should

Sit and listen, sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me, no one knew me

Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson

Look right through me, look right through me

Cruel Intentions

soundtrack lyrics

Marcy Playground - Comin' Up From Behind

Ah, She's an eight ball,

She's a'rollin faster than a white wall,

She's got an avalanche packed into a snowball,

She's a losin all the links,

She's like a stonewall,

She's loaded up,

She's the underdog,

Gonna take a mighty swipe

At the high horse,

While'a sippin on her tricks

In a pitfall,

Makin eyes at the girls like bullfrogs,

I'm telling you, sir,

[Chorus]

She's comin up from,

comin up from, comin up,

comin up from behind,

Yeah,

She's comin up from,

comin up from, comin up,

comin up from behind,

You'd like her hanging

Like a sneaker on a live wire, dangling,

While your Wall Street pockets are jangling

With the hollow jackpot of your rich kid games,

It's a longshot,

She's got a troop and a tongue for a slingshot,

But she's takin' steady aim

At the bigshots,

It's hard to miss the rolling-polies

On the blacktop,

You better watch your turf,

[Chorus]

She's comin up from,

comin up from, comin up,

comin up from behind,

Yeah,

She's comin up from,

comin up from, comin up,

comin up from behind,

You had her hanging

Like a sneaker on a live wire, dangling,

While your golden-lined pockets were jangling

With the hollow jackpot of your wretched games,

She caught your sick lie,

It's creepin in the shadow of your white smile,

Lurking underneath the cover of your bedroom eyes,

Well, you're greasin' up the lance for your small-fry,

You wanna talk it up, do you?

Well you're floatin like a royal balloon -- oh,

Your ego's swollen to the size of the moon, well,

I think you found somebody to cut you down to size.

Well well,

Yeah,

She's comin up from behind,

She's comin up from behind,

Yeah,

She's comin up from behind,

She's comin up from behind...

-bsg-

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