This is for your own good they hastely explain
as they pick apart my fantasies and try to drive me sane.
Illusions, all illusions, they heartily proclaim
as they break all my balloons and try to drive me sane.
Reality is dark and grim, clouds make silver linings dim.
Rainbows can't leave the ground with pots of gold to weigh them down.
My bones age at their kind concern,
their steel smiles and brittle eyes, the truth behind their guilt-edged lies.
Let me weave my dreams in peace, with scintillating motion cease
all their finely tuned distortions.
Their clever mis-proportions into sparkling verities transpose.
Some emperors really have new clothes.
They don't mean to be unkind, deaf to screams of wounded minds.
Silent lobsters boil to death, not a sound with their last breaths.
I'm told they feel no pain at all going to their last rewards.
They also have no vocal cords.
Shreds of fear wind thru their souls at what they see and can't control.
Insanity has wings and tails, life without the safety rails.
Death's a form of astronautics, I won't walk if I can fly.
I'll live forever or I'll die and their feeling good is bad refrain
will never serve to drive me sane.