No one choses to suffer,
No one choses to "always be sad",
How could you say Depression is only a 'choice'?
"Oh, it's only just a fad."

You must think it's simple,
To go on and wake up,
Your life must be so easy,
Hell, it isn't so tough.

Tell me about all the money, that can be counted in bills,
How many people are truly there for you,
How you live atop a hill.

Was it you who was nominated, the best at your job?
The one who graduated and had enough to eat?
Or were you the one I last saw,
Who cried himself to sleep?

Perhaps you were the one who had enough to be on his own,
Maybe you were the one in a bar, drinking yourself away-alone.

Tell me how you live your life, always with a smile and your ego so high,
How you never once sat and had thought, "I might as well die."

Depression is not hypocritical, it is a sickness to many,
Whether or not you can or cannot count every penny.
It doesn't always scream, it doesn't always cry,
It can often be found in painful laughs, or a clever written lie.

Some may suffer gravely, some found in death,
Some may be pained ocasionally or with every strangled breath.
It is found in young or in old, man or woman of the world,
Some by the embraced or those who have been hurled.

The next time you speak of fortune,
To insult or to brag,
Make sure your own life isn't begging-
behind a fitted mask.

Here I stand, a monument to my own destruction,
carrying on the work of an ancient construction.
Hands made of callouses designed for moving rocks,
seconds pass to minutes to hours on the clocks,
and life flows downhill through the roots of a Viking tree,
to the garden, to the sea.

Yggdrasil weaves its trunk through my history,
how it knows my life is its greatest mystery.
Its leaves reach to the heavens and caress the clouds,
through its xylems and phloems travels the worlds crowds,
and life flows downhill between the roots of this Viking tree,
to the garden, to the sea.

The gods of dark places fight their battles in the light,
and all the eyes of all the folks turn from the murky night.
Yggdrasil stands tall like a black tower ‘tween land and sky,
where the hearts of the bravest men climb towards a lie,
and life flows downhill by the roots of the Viking tree,
to the garden, to the sea.

Lost in a forest of dead and dying trees,
listening to words of death carried by the breeze.
When I will be home I cannot say for certain,
but I will not yet allow life to close the curtain.
Separated by the distance of half a broken world,
but I will never give up on the love of my Idaho girl.

The grass used to be green but now is yellow and sick,
the magic in the universe is running out of tricks.
But one more came my way and my heart wanted more,
and you responded by knocking gently on my door.
It doesn’t feel so far now as half a broken world,
I’ve seen the mind and beauty of my Idaho girl.

People gifted with voice
Stop making all the noise
Do not speak words to abuse
Just to keep your self amuse
Understand yourself in their shoes
Change your perceptions and views
Then choose the right words to use

You say you understand but you don't
you think you know us but you don't
we feel trapped all the time
and alone
we're the ones that con you
not for evil but for companionship.

Have you ever hated something so much
you fantasize about going crazy
just to escape this horrible reality.
We're the ones that don't qualify as normal
we're the ones that see the world differently
and finaly we're the ones that finds society
STUPID