Madness and Methodist

Perched upon your ebony throne,
Drowning out the great alone,
That bled itself into your brain,
Reminding you that you're insane,
Dripped from lips and eyes and tongues,
That made you realize you'd become undone,
Within a hell of white-hot pain,
That burned you ugly and never the same,
The little girl inside your mind,
That smiles on the outside but cries all the time,
Finally spliced the last red nerve of sane,
Sucked it pale like a candy cane,
And splintered again into bits on the floor,
Marbles rolling away to be found nevermore,
Until the little man in a white cap and gown,
Drug you away to the place in town,
Where you get your own room with pillows for walls,
And you can run screaming down through the halls,
Until they get tired of your babbling mouth,
Give you some drugs to put you right out,
Isn't it fun here in Methodist land?
Where we can run screaming like children again,
And it's summertime forever here in our minds,
Where the darkness never creeps and sorrow never binds,
Who am I kidding this place is absurd!
Needles prick and white lights burn,
Doctors and demons wake you up in the dark,
Or the schizo next door screaming like a lark,
Your neighbor will rape you and therapist tell you to die,
From suicide you fool, go back out again and this time...really try!!
Ah yes it's so lovely here in this place,
With the crazies and weirdos you'll feel perfectly in place,
So come on down to the Methodist hotel,
And awaken to find yourself really in hell