The Lady with long jagged digits
that bend so strangely when she fidgets
beacons me to come and play
a game of self involved rage

The man with the gentle hand
who can not seem to understand
why I cry for smiling faces
and laugh with those obsessed mind races

Stress induced land of OZ
no reds shoes to click me home
so on I spin without a cause
Twisting,twirling, fighting alone

They yell for more of my soul
I shall not repent
For the time they feel so ill spent

I dance alone within the rain
while the rest think I am Insane
I throw my head back
and give out a howl
To hell with the vultures
That wait for my fall
To hell with their sanity
the spirit it robs
To hell with their visions
To hell with them all