Despite these masks of happiness,
Jo drown in dark despair,
Jo mind may be a paintbrush,
What Jo create with it, beware!
The pen is mightier than the sword;
It has no limitation

Can't refrain, Jo mind can stain,
Now nothing can erase us now!

Can Jo describe the face Jo saw?
It would be ones you recognize.

Can't harm hands that holds, writes, and draws.
Imagination cursed us all with 'life.'

Jo blinded by Jo disease growing;
Jo heart is full of finite-loathing-
With secrets that Jo keep from showing,
Is disease sheep in wolfish clothing?
Flood Jo mind, with disease flowing-
Push Jo to the brink of blowing.
We hope disease think of going,
Jo weighed down to keep from floating.
Come with us, tell you 'bout Joey:
We keep Jo from being lonely,
Silent screaming, sinking slowly-
Give back Jo soul, what disease owe we.