Thoughts of violence, chaos, confusion
Batter my brain, a constant intrusion.
I'm told I'm sick,
I've been labeled...by a doctor, of course.
Shit, I'll just consider the source.
They say, "Take the pills, they will make you sane."
I don’t understand what’s wrong with feeling pain.
The anger is building, this whole thing sucks.
I try to tell people, but I can tell they doesn’t really give a fuck.
Back on the street, alone once more
They've turned me into a medication whore.
Voices in my head beginning to grow.
What to do next? I don't know.
They say there's no cure, I may not get better.
I‘m just sick of my pillow getter wetter.
If I scream or jump or try to do myself in,
I get a police ride to the loony bin.
If you have an answer, tell me please,
Or this could be the end of me.