I feel like I haven't slept in years.
I feel like a goldfish.
I feel like a broken airplane.
They try to fix me up and send me off.
But I don't see a take off in sight.
When I get out of here I ain't coming back.
When I don't have to be questioned or judged.
When I don't have to written up.
Red pen marks on the walls.
Black and white papers fall.
I'll thank God that I lived through that Hell.
If I ever do.
