| He’s a modern day Jekyll and Hyde, mixin' pride with the cold hard facts |
| Starin' awful hard at a picture on a bar of a girl that he won’t get back |
| He’s talkin' to himself knowin' damn well his self doesn’t know what now |
| 'Xcept fire shots of Jack and popping caps of Silver Bullets in his mouth |
| He’s a mad man at the world |
| ‘Cause a girl told him goodbye |
| His thumbs up has been grounded |
| Now it’s that bird he loves to fly |
| Might be happy hour to you |
| But his mind ain’t nowhere near there |
| It’s busy goin' crazy on the heels of her Mercedes |
| Drivin' back home north of eighty towards the badlands |
| He’s still holdin' on like a mad man |
| He ain’t lookin' for a fight but that might be what ya get |
| If you light that fuse that looks to you like a half-smoked cigarette |
| Just leave his glass half empty, he’s better off left alone |
| Kind of like a house up the road, the lights are on but no one’s home |
| He’s a mad man at the world |
| ‘Cause a girl told him goodbye |
| His thumbs up has been grounded |
| Now it’s that bird he loves to fly |
| Might be happy hour to you |
| But his mind ain’t nowhere near there |
| It’s busy goin' crazy on the heels of her Mercedes |
| Drivin' back home north of eighty towards the badlands |
| He’s still holdin' on like a mad man |
| Yeah like a mad man, mad man, like a mad, mad man |