You're All Pissed Off with Nowhere to Go

[Intro: Spoken, over piano and brushed snare] Ladies and gentlemen! A little good news to start the evening. Everybody's got an opinion. And absolutely nobody's having a good time. Maestro, if you please. [Brass flourish] [Verse 1] The fellow at the corner's got a bone to pick, The lady at the luncheonette is looking mighty sick. The man behind the counter says the whole world's gone to pot, And the fella buying coffee says the coffee's running hot. The papers say we're doomed again, The radio agrees, The neighbors have been shouting Since a quarter after three. Well, I've got a little question For the angry and the blue: If you're so busy raising Cain, Who's got time to follow through? [Pre-Chorus] Everybody's got a grievance, Everybody's got a case, Everybody's got a finger Pointed squarely at a face. Now the band is getting nervous And the bartender looks grim. If the whole world's so offended, Who's gonna pay for the gin? [Chorus: Full brass, swinging ensemble] You're all pissed off with nowhere to go! You're raising the roof, but you're moving too slow! You're shaking your fists at the fellow next door, Then turning around to complain some more! You're all wound up tight as a two-dollar bow, Got a head full of steam and a whole lot of wow! You can holler till the rafters start to sway, But the world's still turning, and it's turning that way! [Ensemble] Nowhere to go! [Lead] Not a place in sight! [Ensemble] Ready to blow! [Lead] Well, blow out the light! [All] You're all pissed off with nowhere to go, So sit down, sweetheart, and enjoy the show! [Verse 2] The politicians promise that tomorrow will be grand, Then spend the whole afternoon explaining what they planned. The experts disagree on what the experts said before, And the public wants an answer, then demands another four. There's a fellow on the telephone who's furious with the news, There's a lady on the television who's got nothing left to lose. And everybody's certain that the other side's insane, While the same old tired arguments come rattling back again. Now I'm no philosopher, I'm just the man who sings, But I've seen a lot of trouble dressed in very fancy things. And if anger were a currency, we'd all be millionaires, Though nobody could spend a dime on getting anywhere. [Pre-Chorus] Everybody's got a sermon, Everybody's got a plan, Everybody's got a reason Why the other guy's the ham. Now the trumpet's blowing bubbles And the drummer's lost his shoe. If I hear one more complaint, I'll start complaining too! [Chorus: Bigger brass, ensemble backing] You're all pissed off with nowhere to go! You're raising the roof, but you're moving too slow! You're shaking your fists at the fellow next door, Then turning around to complain some more! You're all wound up tight as a two-dollar bow, Got a head full of steam and a whole lot of wow! You can holler till the rafters start to sway, But the world's still turning, and it's turning that way! [Ensemble] Nowhere to go! [Lead] Well, isn't that grand? [Ensemble] Ready to blow! [Lead] I quite understand! [All] You're all pissed off with nowhere to go, So sit down, sweetheart, and enjoy the show! [Bridge: Music drops to piano and upright bass] Now, let's all take a breath. In through the nose... Out through the mouth... And kindly stop explaining What the trouble's all about. [Spoken, dryly] You there in the back! I can see your blood pressure from here. [Small brass sting] I know you've got a point. I know you've got a right. But must you make the point At every person here tonight? [Build: Drums and brass gradually return] The world's a funny place, And the joke is getting old. We're all busy keeping score While the coffee's getting cold. So loosen up your collar, Put your grievances away. We've got three more choruses, And the band refuses to play them in dismay! [Final Chorus: Full orchestra, theatrical ensemble] You're all pissed off with nowhere to go! You're raising the roof, now put on a show! You're shaking your fists, you're stamping your feet, You're making a racket on every damn street! You're all wound up tight as a two-dollar bow, Got a head full of steam and a whole lot of wow! If the world's gonna spin while you grumble and groan, You might as well swing while you're throwing your stones! [Ensemble] Nowhere to go! [Lead] That's the spirit, my dears! [Ensemble] Ready to blow! [Lead] I've been saying it for years! [All] You're all pissed off with nowhere to go, So tip your hat and enjoy the show! [Outro: Brass hits, piano flourish] [Spoken, over final piano chords] And if that didn't make you happy... Well, I don't know what will. [Pause] Next number's a ballad. It's about patience. [Trumpet sting] We'll see how that goes. [Big band ending]