It's good for me to write
Dr Hale says it's therapeutic
You know, they think
I'm the one who's crazy

So they humour me
I don't mind playing along
most of the time

But jailed here in this hospital ...
God I wish I could see the sun again!
And the stars!
white specks in eternity!
Feeling a cool breeze
as I gaze out over the water
Listening to the forest murmur
And my shouting back at it
You're alive! you're alive! God, you're alive!

It used to be so refreshing
to stroll through those woods
away from the tomb of that city
with millions of cold corpses
roaming the streets
thinking they are still alive
they breathe
but their hearts stopped long ago

And here in the insitution
for a cure against life
I'm given paper and pen
and four padded walls

Maybe someday I'll die
and become like those millions in the city
and be released to join them