Slow down it's rotation.
Finally cure this insanity.
Force-feed these pills to the doctors and "normal people."
Tell them how I really feel.
Show them what a crazy person is really like.
Put them in a straight-jacket,
Treat them like a pinatta.
Letting my actions speak my mind.
For once not trying to hold back.
Not trying to supress my anger.
Each blow a message,
From the Prozac Generation.
The ones we could not find.
The ones we could not save or help,
The ones we left behind.
What will happen to the ones,
Who could not understand?
Who chose to remain ignorant,
And would not take our hand.
Are they doomed to be the feast,
For some disgusting, evil beast?
Or will they burn up in the fire,
Created by their own desire?
Will they, by chance, know their fate?
Before that sad day comes?
Or will the devil have no heart,
And hold his evil tounge?
Now staring down on their streets,
All broken and a waste.
Only now are they truely learning,
The bitterness of taste.
From crackheads to Range Rovers,
In a mere quarter hour.
So was it an advancement?
Or just a change in power?
Their heads were in the clouds,
That is, untill brought down.
So tell me little child,
Where is your head now?
Emotions were beyond them,
I wonder if they are still.
If not what is the magnitude,
Of the pain that they must feel.
Oh so sure of themselves.
Of what they feel and say.
Imagine the dissiloussionment,
When their Gods turned away.
Imagine what it must be like,
To vanish into oblivion.
Could you conceive how it must feel,
To have a future black as obsidian?
And we move on, and we advance,
Never thinking of the past.
Currency replaced with dance,
No momentos of those surpassed.
Good ridance, good father,
And good luck with the degraded.
As we turn our head on the final,
Generation of the Jaded.
~ Walter Matthau, "I'm Not Rappaport"
Give me a hand before insanity rapes me.
These breakdowns are what I live for.
Never knowing what I'm in for.
Never knowing the reasons they institutionalize me.
They will never know the visions that this mind sees.
Behind me, the light that blinds me.
The ties that bind me, cut free, finally.
These pills will only send me further into my own oblivion.
But it seems to satisfy everyone else.
No pills, I need an angel to save me now.
To share this reality, and in her goodness, bath me now.
These pills will fuck my mind and warp my thoughts.
And the crazier I get, the more pills will be bought.
And when I'l locked away, alone, in my all white room.
My angel will keep me company, tell me I'll be out soon.
And when they catch her coming to me, sneaking me in love,
They'll force-feed her these same pills, and send her back above.
Alone again, with only pills as friends.
But countless prescriptions can't outweigh my sins.
So now they've overdosed my angel, given, taken too much.
And she's left crawling down below, using Heaven as her crutch.
And I'm still here, all out of pills, still insane.
Just another hopeless mental case.
Fuck pills, only an angel can save me now.
Share my sickness, and in her goodness, bath me now.
Share my sickness. Share my sickness.
Share my sICKNESS.
Share my sickness. Share my sickness.
Share my sickness
sHARE my Sickness.
Share my sickness.
Share my sickness.
Share my sickness. Share my sickness.
Share my sickness.