If I don’t get out of this place

This room is too small, there’s not enough light,
The voices in my head are starting to fight.
There’s a gun in the corner, pointed at my head,
At first it was amusing, these visions of Dead.
And down on the corner, not even half a mile,
I thought I heard promises to make me smile.
But the walls they are closing, it’s too hard to breathe,
As the sun it sets down, on a desperate new breed.
I don’t know what rational I shall explain,
If I don’t get out of this place.
Everything’s moving to fast, as I stand at will,
Watching the blur, as I stand still.
Bumped into and pushed, along to the side,
This train derails, that I decided to ride.
And amuong the wreckage, in the morning light,
I see the reason, I gave up the fight.
But these people are pushy, it’s too hard to breathe,
As I watch the anguish, for which I wreathe.
And I just don’t know what I will do,
If I don’t get out of this place.
For my life is a torture, with no escape.
I’m tired of all of this emotional rape.
The mental abuse, from which I reside,
The evident Comport from which I arise.
I race with my thoughts to a place with no end,
I’m telling you now, i’m starting to give in.
But this pace is too fast, it’s too hard to breathe,
And I don’t know who will take up the lead.
And I wont be held responsible,
If I don’t get out of this place.
7-13-01