I sneak down the hallway and listen
To the mortician
Whisper to his bored assistant
That a corpse is missing.
Their voices fade as I walk away smiling,
In a moment of silence
With inmates wilding.
Usually I choose to remain silent.
Even an insane mind senses the change
A strange a quiet before the storm
That will raise the waves of violence.
Like the moon
Changes the tides Men will soon
See similar sides in their lunacy
Parading and abiding by the laws of these tyrants.
I make my way through this crooked and grey environment.
The grey paint is meant to soothe us
When their not trying to inflict pain
Or electrocute us.
They make us addicts,
Inject and shoot us
With infected sutures.
Inventing new drugs.
Side effects are diarrhoea nausea sneezing coughs aches high fever and claustrophobia,
Sometimes some die of fear and euphoria
Thinking of walls and floors
With eyes and ears
And they’re calling you.
And some pills will pry the tears from your cornea,
I’ve heard some spend 90years or more in the
Insane asylum.
They had me locked behind bars
Far from the world like I was living on mars
There’s no escape trapped with your sorrows and fears
Where the walls have eyes and the floors have ears.
And they got your brain scrambled
And your mouth foaming like beers,
It’s like sleeping on a bed of nails,
With a pillow full of tears.
Come take a walk where the cuckoos a clever birdy,
And they force feed us pills for dinner at 7:30.