We're talking
put up a hand
to stop a hurricane
futile here,
folks.
Two days past trying
while listening
to Hermine's tails
lashing at the windows,
I reach deep
into a well of emptiness
for a lost bucket
of words
filled with dusted
dried feelings,
the rope frayed
to snapping.
A thirst to heal
will lead me to drill
elsewhere,
thirsting for the tears
commingling with rain,
the tears that burst
from a stone-crag heart
in artesian splendor.

A psych ward is the place to be,
Come along, and you will see.
You'll be welcomed by forgotten silent deaths
and torturous screams.
An everlasting place of a need to be free.

Come on down to the "freak show",
We'll show you how we rock and roll,
Some say that we're unhinged,
But trust me honey, the fun is about to begin.

A lobotomy a day keeps the schizophrenia away they say,
An electric chair isn't the cruelest thing there,
By far it is knowing that you are not crazy, amongst a world that is.

We'll dance for you, we do it well.
But if we don't, torture will make it amends.
We sit here day on day, hoping for freedom,
Uncanny, unlikely, and an impossible dream.

A  psych ward is the place to be,
We'll grow old here and die a forgotten death,
The music is still playing,
The patients are still dancing,
This is my last day.

So come on down to our freak show, join our family, we'll show you how to rock and roll,
And die insanely.

Somewhere, anywhere you be.
I be there.
Yes, anytime.

I be your substance.
I be your love.

Request me, don't beg me.
For it's not that important.
But I'm gonna forever be apart of your life's story.

Great is your faithfulness.
Great is your love.
Great is your support.
Grateful, is this guy.

I'm an optimist
until I feel my body and notice something's off,
until I hear a voice in my head that gives me reasons
why I shouldn't be happy,
until I realize everyone is moving on
and I'm stuck here in this trance.
I'm an optimist
until I realize
how ****** up I am.