Bite the hand*

You will be behind me, or
Even in front if you like
I wont call you anything,
Or if that is you want me to,
I will call you everything.
Whatever you say,
I will lie here in a pool
of rampant madness, decay,
You shall be my "soul's" leader,
You will tell me when I'm "good,"
Or if I am insane, I won't complain,
I will be your tool, your stool,
I will not shun you if that's ever
Even been possible, you will be free
To ram your religious and political
Ideals down into my mind whether I
Believe or not, or they will "save
You," and take me away in locks.