Robert Forster
People Say
You've got to improve
Your walk hardly moves
Your holy sailors with their harbour smells
Feed from your broken shells

So that's how it feels
It's a cruel God that steals
The things you love, the things you hold
That are priceless but still sold

People say I'm mad to want you
People say I'm mad to need you
People say I'm mad to love you
Babe


The jobs you cannot hold
The stereo that you sold
You can't have milk and drink it too
Your kitchen has no food

People say I'm mad to want you
People say I'm mad to need you
People say I'm mad to love you
Babe
The clouds lie on their backs
And rain on everyone
But you always stay dry
You've got your own private sun

Listen to the doctor’s advice
Nobody's ever been saved twice
So pack your bags, and your drums
Im gonna take you till the kingdom comes

People say I'm mad to want you
People say I'm mad to need you
People say I'm mad to love you
Babe