Žodžiai dainai: Ben Weasel. In A Bad Place.

In a bad place. In a sick frame of mind. In a bad way and you're no friend of mine. Started counting when she first saw the lightning flash. It's a sad thing, like a bitter little laugh. In a bad place she watched the sun rise again. It's a bad break but we all have our cross to bear. That night she lost count long before the thunder crashed. It's a sad thing, like a bitter little laugh. Scars never fade; there just isn't time enough. Oh I'm so lonesome now; so broken I've had enough. I pray for a sign of love. I wait for a sign. How can the sun be so cold?