i think there's a person,
who lives inside of me,
a person who i've never met,
a person i call Z.

and when I am feeling happy,
like nothing can go wrong,
this other person who lives in me,
decides to come along.

Z takes my happy thoughts,
and throws them on the ground,
and when i try to sleep at night,
Z spins my mind around.

if i am having normal dreams,
of planes, and rain and things,
scary night-time monsters
is what dear Z will bring.

many people tell me,
how to fix myself,
they want me to take my issues,
and store them on a shelf.

the doctors all tell me,
the same thing, over and over again,
just pop a pill,
and take a spill,
into a place where there's no pain.

and then dear Z, he hides away,
in a place solitary, and confined,
instead of finding his way out,
he hides inside my mind.

until i'm fine,
and the doctors say,
to stop the pills,
i'll be okay.

but then here comes dear Z again,
he shows up at my door,
the minute i pull myself out of the haze of drugs,
he twists my mind once more.

you see the pills,
with all their thrills,
cannot get rid of Z,
for they don't know,
that despite the odds,
Z is really me.