It's not like we did something wrong. We just burned down the church. While the choir within sang religious songs. And it's not like we thought we was right. We just played with the wheels of a passenger train. That cracked on the tracks one night. It's not like we ain't on the ball. We just talk to our shrinks. Huh they talk to their shrinks. No wonder we're up the wall. We're not stupid or dumb. We're the lunatic fringe who rusted the hinge. On Uncle Sam's daughters and sons. Good old boys and girls. Congregating waiting in another world. With roller coaster brains. Imagine playing with trains. Good old boys and girls. Congregating waiting in some other world. We're all crazy we're all crazy we're all crazy. Lizzy Borden took an axe and gave her mother forty whacks. And don't think we're trying to be bad. All the innocent crime seemed alright at the time. Not necessarily mad not necessarily mad. We watch every day for the bus. And the driver would say. "That's where lunatics stay". I wonder if he's talking about us. It's not like we're vicious or gone. We just dug up the graves where your relatives lay. In old forest lawn. And it's not like we don't know the score. We're the fragile elite they dragged off the street. I guess they just couldn't take us no more. Good old boys and girls. Congregating waiting in another world. With roller coaster brains. Imagine digging up graves. Good old boys and girls. Congregating waiting in some other world. We're all crazy we're all crazy we're all crazy we're all crazy. We're all crazy we're all crazy we're all crazy we're all crazy. We're all crazy.