Why is it so hard to destroy beautiful things?
They aren't innocent.
Not always.
They can be cruel.
Like a poisonous flower,
Or a rushing river.
They are beautiful and we admire them from afar,
But getting too close is dangerous.
It could end you.
But why not end it first?
Pull the flower like its a ****.
Stop the river's flow like it's a gutter.
But we can't.
And why not?
Because it's beautiful,
And there are so few beautiful things left in the world.
So we fight for them,
And we protect them,
Even if they are deadly,
Because they are all we have left.
And if there was no beauty,
No horrible, deadly, beauty,
What would we live for?

You're insane
You're crazy
You've lost it
You're mad
That's what they tell you
That's what they say
But maybe it's them
Maybe they're crazy
Maybe we all are
And maybe it scares us
So we lock up those who make it obvious
Or maybe they're the sane ones
Maybe we all just refuse to hear the voices
Or see the people
Maybe it's driving us all insane
If you really think about it
If you really do
Who's really more insane?
The poor mental boy
Or the sick excuse for a doctor
The one who claims to cure him
The one who 'heals' him with electricity
With eels to his head
Or who boils him in a tub
"Hydrotherapy" he says
"It helps" he says
Laying it out makes it obvious
Laying it out makes it clear
You'd be insane to believe that those could work
Insane!
But that was then
This is now
Now we use drugs
Now we use words
Or do we?
There is still pain
There is still torture in therapy
And the patient in the ward has no say
They are locked
Stuck eternally
Hearing the same thing over and over again
You're insane
You're crazy
You've lost it
You're mad