"You're sick. . . " He replies fantically.
"No" I say, and "no" I repeat. He doesn't understand.
"This is not a phase. It's lifetime disorder. Here's your treatment. I want you to go home, and write a diary of your experiences. Read it, and revise it."
In and out as they boogie between corners of walls,
They range from sizes in between tall and small and I pray
that these 2-D phases will fall yet the reverie sung in between
melodies are those conducted of magistrate felonies, and I cannot
hear anything but the ringing of a phone in my head, BRR-INNNG!
Leave me alone, I am asleep, in bed, dead. I did not do anything!
Little man inside there! Answer the ring! Let the voice inside bring
whatever it will bring! And I foster the thoughts, adopt them in a way,
and I cannot believe that this entertainment will be fun for all day! Pop,
pop of my ears! Doc, doc! I’m sorry, but I just need some beers, no medication
of the sick flick mental, I’m done being gentle with these figures on my mind!
I mean ON my mind! Hold a microscope to my forehead and see what you’ll
find!
I am
not sick
But thoughts
are so thick,
as my head slams into the ground,
resound is not found as it is so real
now, blood is a sound,
a song, and all along I knew I could
not go out.
Schizofrantic!
Schizopanic!
I want to swim off and drown in the
Schizolantic!
rushing off into moonlight on a one way
ticket into the sky.
I am not sick,
But these thoughts
will not leave me a-lone.
_______________________________________________
[(c) DJ. 2006. 3:46. 9/18.2006]
A Day On RB - Relli_Mak
Grass Roots on Tour