I blast my horn at some big jerk,
who cuts me off driving to work,
leaves me cross, makes me curse,
and I’m angry at the world, angry at the world..

I read the news, it stays the same,
the games we lose we just keep playin’,
the devil’s bargain’s on sale again,
and I’m angry at the world, angry at the world..

for what it’s worth, and I’m not sure,
a cup of earth traded for a snake-oil cure,
a dearth of love, a lust for more,
like we’re angry at the world, angry at the world..

the ones I love, the ones I shake,
a few on purpose, most by mistake,
push comes to shove, moves on to break,
and I’m angry at the world, angry at the world,

for what it’s worth, and I can’t say,
a missing purpose dropped somewhere along the way,
the potter’s hands reaching for a lump of clay,
is he angry at the world? angry at the world..

and what am I? a clump of dirt,
same as the dust behind the curtains,
the salt I was now stains my shirt,
and I’m angry at the world,

for what it’s worth, and I can’t tell,
a splash of water at the bottom of the wishing well,
the fists of heaven pounding at the gates of hell,
where we’re angry at the world, angry at the world,

angry at the world, angry at the world...