Alone at day and night
Comforted by his madness
Bewitched by his own fright
Disturbed and distracted
Addicted to chemicals mixed
A breath of fresh air
A rush, a sudden fix

The boy is sick, can't you see?
It's obvious to me and blatant
I can't understand why he's alone
Surrounded by his friends
Helpless and silent, yet screaming
A consistent lack of feeling and
I'm thinking somebody throw him a rope

We're all here thinking it
Behind closed doors
The boy is sick
I mean really, sick
We watch in horror as he spirals
Furiously out of control

For the love of all things
Neither holy, nor good or evil
For the love of the unbiased
For the understanding of sanity
For the boy that cries to us all
And receives no help

In the name of the thoughtful
Let us not reject a patient
We can't ignore the subject
Illness is illness
Poor health is body and mind
And soul....
Addiction is addiction
Physical dependence and mentality
Are real as cancer, as defiant as gravity

When it takes him
That pain that lasts a thousand years
And his mother cries a million tears
It will be too young, too soon
Too awful...