bipolar distemper

the blunt edge of depression     rolls across my portion of the sky     it’s gonna rain again    nobody can gauge when or why    somebody help me     I’m coming undone       we all have secret sorrows       I’ve had enough of mine     I woke up into a nightmare      I might never sleep again    some have wounds that do not show       but they bleed     they bleed from the soul    I’m not helpless – I’m hopeless      they call it suicidal ideation    my life is a burning building     I may have to jump     it’s burn or dive     coz there is a terror beyond falling    the choices here are stark   

bipolar distemper is a side effect of living      and living is a disease with one cure     and one cure alone    I won’t cry in public     I won’t rend my clothes       I’ll weep on the inside    I’ll weep from my soul      there’s no comfort to be had    no magic pills    my soul carries more scars    than living tissue   this is not sadness       sadness will pass like the common cold     this is cancer     a cancer of the soul      I feel so ashamed        to carry this burden     I’ve done something wrong     something so huge   I can’t even comprehend it      the devil has hold of my soul     and from where I sit now       he’s welcome to it

 

lies

 I like to drink    but I only with my friends     I don’t care to drink with strangers     I have to factor in my concentration     got to keep my story straight        my lies always carried more weight than my truths   after all, lies are the common currency    truths are rare as diamonds     I save the truths for the people I trust     what do you say to that?    I don’t know what to say myself      it’s not my place to say     but what do you think?     coz I don’t know what to think    I never knew what to think  I always moved in the wrong direction    is that symptomatic of a poor education?    I could blame my past       but with little conviction       I’ve always been the victim of my own machinations    I couldn’t care less now     but I suffered then     nobody suffers like the poor      and I was impoverished in spirit      I could tell some stories      we all could tell some stories     life is anecdotal and fifty percent deception     but that’s to be expected     how could we live with ourselves if it weren’t for our lies?

the devil

they say it takes one to know one    that the devil knows his friends    I guess if the cap fits I'll wear it      coz I’m not ready to repent         I don’t care what people think     I’m not through sinning yet     I’ve often been the villain     in other people’s schemes     but now I set the agenda      we’ll find out where that leads      I might play the devil      I might just steal his clothes     I’d rather play the devil    than someone you don’t know     it can take a little evil    to get your business fixed     but they say the devil is worldly wise     and he knows all the tricks

orphans

it’s been a long time now    but some things never change    you took the road with me     with expectations that would tear us apart     you knew how to live       I knew how to dance     I promised you much      but I think I lied   I don’t believe     and I will not serve       I’m not afraid of being alone        I’m not scared of making mistakes       I crawled on broken glass     to get where I am now       my mistakes are portals     to new discoveries     I found myself   all on my own     I drowned in the ocean     you placed between us      I bled for your lies when you found another       but I wished luck in your new adventure    god grant you some peace    on your journey home      

electrical therapy

I need a bigger brain     none of this shit makes sense      I want a long lie down     in the cool room    on virgin sheets       over by the window      where I can see the street       because something is going wrong somewhere      and I’m afraid it’s local      there’s more misery in this neighbourhood than can be quantified      we’re alive and that’s the problem     and it’s quite a problem      but it’s nobody’s fault      

the living have troubles     that span all dimensions      electrical therapy might see them sorted     a zap to the brainpan      could do some good     it’s said to work wonders      for all mental maladies     god knows it changed my motivations      they taught me to think straight     with little blasts of lightning    they lit the path      to some near nirvana       and saw me whole    but not quite holy     am I the bad guy now?      how does that work?

I cut a solitary figure in this situation      but I don’t need a rainy day woman     to come and make my bed      clean my clothes      or serve my daily bread       don’t get me wrong      I don’t want to be alone     I just need a friend      to talk to when I’m stoned      I’m loaded with electrical potential     some find that strange     they might think I’m mental      but I know who I am    and that’s pivotal to my way of thinking