I go through the motions of being alive,
No not living for there is no life or
light at the end of this tunnel.
Home alone in my room sitting staring
at flickering meaningless scenes hearing
without listening, speaking without saying.
Others complain saying: 'pull yourself together
and for gods sake go and see your doctor'.
So I nod my head smiling to please them
and they leave thinking they've helped me
to 'get my head together', leaving me alone
to think of many ways to get my head apart.
Loneliness leads me to the solution and the way
out of it all hosepipe windows shut mind
shut pills swallowed turn the key scent of
death and a door opens that should have been locked.
Dragged into fresh air and to the doctors rooms and
psychiatric faces and hopefully endless oblivion.
Sweet women in white stern men with beards
'carbon monoxide count sixteen is bad cos
twenty's usually fatal you know so it could be
at least three or four weeks at least and why
didn't you call us Jett and warn us Jett cos
you know we could have helped we tried'.
Medicate tranquilize and close your eyes,
red white and blues for breakfast lunch supper.
'Wanna talk about it now wanna say why?
Group therapy is good and the only way to go
you know they've all been there and back
and no we can't just let you die you know.'
Psychi psychol psycho beings asking about
sex and drawings talk interpret and more
pills so you can function but how do I when
all I do is sleep sleep sleep and wish
I would never wake up again ever in this world
in this meaningless useless f-cking world.