M A D (Intro)

I don't have to tell you things are bad

Everybody knows things are bad

It's a depression

Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job

The dollar buys a nickel's worth

Banks are going bust

Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter

Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do

And there's no end to it

We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat

And we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes