The Perfect Drug

I'm a paranoid schizophrenic
little freak who lives in her own little world
while pretending to live in yours
and I'm aware enough to know it wasn’t the magic
mushrooms
or notebooks of acid
but the abuse of others that’s lasted for so long in
my mind
and if I could find another kind of drug
to make me forget
all of the times that I got hit
or told that no one would ever want to hold me
not only would I take it
I'd bathe in it.

The age of paranoia lives and breaths new life
into every one of our minds
some of us go mad
others don't seem to mind
but when it comes to my mind I find
its like traveling through a desertous cave
full of mines
yet every once in awhile a splash
of happy
appears to have been painted
by the child who continues to exist deep inside
clouds and ducks
clowns and mimes
maybe it's those random tracers
that still allow me to have a good time
whatever it is there is no reason
and there is no rhyme
to the map displaying the path
for my journey written by
a dyslexic God that keeps me guessing about what
is next
and all be it odd
as hard as it has been so far
i can sit in any bar
and mesmerize the patrons within
with the story I'm living
because even when I want to die
i still find a reason why
i should get up and try
just one more time
because I never know
If this will be the day
that the pain will actually fade.