Mental Health

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Postmodern Medicine (2011)
 

The Plastic Revolution – Mental Health

Life changes all the time, but if you read between the lines we can try and make this last forever. Walls begin to close, and the symptoms start to show like a spiral down forever… Now I feel, like crawling back to you, and I don’t know if you’ve decided what the mood is gonna be. A party or panic attack, scared to death on how to act. Every single heart attack I just wait for… And if you sleep with a switchblade, and you barricade yourself inside our home while it’s aflame you say: I hate this town, write it on my grave and still I, never thought I’d ever wanna stay, but I got erased. I got erased, and I feel, like a new soldier, who’s weighing free-weights of the world on his shoulders. And time is my key, time is my savior, and all I that I waste just turns to anger. Just break me down, what did you mean when everything starts to unwrap at the seams? My whole world is estranged, but i just won’t give up, though everything starts to fall, lost with all what is enough? I feel, like sorting through the truth, and I’m convinced that I can’t tell it to the nurses or the doctors, or attendees on the floor I’m forced to stay, 72 hours counting down along the way… And if you sleep w/ a switchblade, and you barricade yourself inside our home while it’s aflame you say: I hate this town, write it on my grave and still I, never thought I’d ever wanna stay, but I got erased. Wait, this out, scream, your sounds. I’m locked out, you’re… Bang! You broil up another batch-full, I couldn’t meet your demands, and I’ve witnessed many things, but nothing like this scene, I couldn’t let you stay there and all go up in flames. Why’d you wanna stay? Oh my darling don’t read this out loud, our place is totally surrounded, strangers following me, they work for Charlie Sheen. Him and Kobe Bryant marked our bills, they drugged our food and switched our pills, and now it’s plain to see, what the fuck is really going on?! Another week I am reborn, hundreds of pages wrote and torn, and what’s believable is stretched conceivably. She’ll stop these things before they start, ripping pages stomping hearts, if you get me to my car, we’re going way too far… Without my girl inside my life I’ll have to get another knife, and sleep with it myself, ‘cause i don’t believe in mental health. You know I don’t believe in mental health.

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