I used to be mad, manic as a rabbit

but they took it instead, saying I was running rabid

I used to be sad, it comes and goes horribly

I can’t seem to control, the everlasting glory

and when i’m mad, every color is like a story

when i’m mad, nothing is bloody or gory

when i’m mad things are like a gaudy dream of me, or are we

stuck in a maze make pretend is the game,

say hi to the madam and proper like dame,

the room spinning barely, wash board and watery

death drags us in wearily, stash or just bare it like me

so confused as to which way might be up

always thinking its half empty- the cup

never thinking its deeper- the cut

instead, panic me, manic me, manic my rut