Losing the will to get out of bed when I always wake up on the wrong side
But this could be the day they'll find a miracle cure that can break through
And fix my dysfunctional mind
Salvage what's left after neglect and abuse
From treatment centers and recovery groups
That trivialize the pain pretending to care
And know all the answers as if it's perfectly clear
Analyzing, pulling out my thoughts like rusty nails, to diagnose and profile me
There's a vast variety of recommended methods and shelves filled with books
About self help, but a bullet in the head is all I need
Nobody understands don't say that you do
And try to pick me apart like a dead specemin
I'm not an object to show case label or dissect
And God Didn't put me here to punish my sins
Maybe a new designer drug or a frontal lobotomy
Can give me some peace It could be a 1000 more hours
Of high priced therapy to back track the source of my mental disease
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