sometimes I wonder what if I just give up and plunder, gotta keep on running or I'll get struck by the thunder, sometimes my anger wins and so does frustration, trying to fight them off but it's a sticky situation, I'm breaking things I'm breaking me I can't even hear my mind, therapy won't help other then just place me in a line, I ain't no psycho but y'all still give me the label, hearing voices in my head but yet I'm surely stable, knocking on the wall or is it just the door, looking at my knuckles while there banging on the floor, I used to think I was crazy and that there wasn't no cure, bloody knuckles red hands into God made me pure I used to think what if they lock me in a home and forget that I'm living, laughing my pain away do they think that I'm kidding, thinking how do you cry when tears don't occur, how do you see when your visions just blur, but now I got God ain't no saying that I'm crazy, am I crazy for the lord well just maybe,