Wheatus

Socrates ain't got nothin on me when it comes to overthinking
Paranoid, is how I prefer to be into the ground I'm sinkin'
Then you call, and you say, in your ordinary way that you can't help me out of the ordinary
You're just like the London son, man you're over and done with before you've begun
and I won't be like the only one who would stand here and smile and try to be fun when I say
Hey baby what went wrong we go back to beginnings of stories too long to be told
Like you were the only one who ever got left in the dark by the London sun.
Hurricanes are blowing out my brains but my eyes are calm and hollow
Air plane stalls from the sky it falls you can read the news tomorrow