Us the crazies hide in a forest of misfortune.
There are no reflectors for we fear of what we've become.
We the crazies live in our minds,
We hide there looking for an answer,  
An answer that only the depths of our minds can answer.
Us the crazies are constantly followed,
We are followed by the pitter pattering of little insects that try to control us.
We the crazies do not have silence,
The mice in our heads scratch and scratch and ache for attention.
Us the crazies eat the weak.
We are cannibals controlled by our urge to feel,
The urge to feel wanted.
Oh, god do I want to feel wanted.
We the crazies are never fulfilled in our own Kingdom of Doom.