Walking through the damning doors,Kept locked with pad and key,
I look at you, you smile back,
You seem so happy to see me,
You welcome me to this awful place,
Rotting deep within the bowels of hell,
But to be honest dear, I know the truth,
This hospital is the Bates motel,
You'll stab me with your shiny needles,
Suck the blood from inside of my veins,
Force pill after pill on down my throat,
While my soul is soaked with pain,
You'll suck me dry and medicate me up,
So I don't make a sound,
And if I do you'll take me to,
The room where straps and chains abound,
The sun it never shines in here,
At least not in the mind of the insane,
Not unless you're manic that is,
Then you'll get a Haldol shot to the brain,
The other patients stare empty-eyed at me,
As you walk me to my room,
Some are drooling upon themselves,
Others are babbling on about impending doom,
Clean white sheets on a sterile, empty bed,
Are the only welcoming sight to me,
At least I can sleep until the meds wear off,
Such a ragged existence it seems,
Groups are at 12, 2, 4 and 6,
Dinner is at 8pm on the dot,
When you leave I place my few things,
Upon the empty, overbleached cot,
I pad on down the hallway,
Hoping this is my last hurrah here,
But the thought of my madness disturbs me until,
I realize I'll be back next year,
For this is the fate for the mentally ill,
This spare bed here at the Bates motel,
Time to get into the medication line,
& as they call my name out I whisper "Oh well..."
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