Pink Pills
Sanity was god in this old brick building
The pills made me sane, but only when I wasn't on them
They tasted of sugar, covering something much worse
The bright pink coatings shone in fluorescent lights
The voices in my head screamed in fear of them, louder then my brain could handle
The sticky sweat drops flooding my face as I hide the little pills under the rough mattress
As the night went on they dissolved into little puddles of acidic smell
I hated their loud taste, the pinkish way they felt in my throat
So Every Time Dr. Marion Williams handed me that little bottle from Wayne Tech Pharmacy I couldn't take the medicine to make me better
But I got better
Life was different on the streets
My puddin' would take my hand and at night we'd paint this old city red
And I loved it because I was miserable
The homicidal madman was really just a misunderstood child
The sharp knife of rage cutting out chunks of sanity one piece at a time
But the blood ran with delight, cyanide tasted of elation
When I was with Mr. J I could dance among the stars in skin so red all the world had to stop and stare
But his Little Harlequin could only dance for so long
And when I'm better I'll go back to him and say,
"I don't need your jovial torture
I'm better now, so I can't think like you anymore!"
And the little pink pills will apologize for being so vile
Because I got better without them
