Escape From The Madhouse
Words & Music by Paul A. Kessler
I wanna know what the hell
They know about me?They give me sideways looks
How can this be?
Troubles of that sort give me vertigo
Sometimes I would be grateful for an easy death
But even in death, I guess,I can’t escape the madhouse
Can’t escape from the madhouse
Am I naked to the bone?
Have I told a grim joke?
No, I know how to behave
And keep my mouth shut
This little bitch of a therapist arrives upon the scene
With her cynical carmine printed mouthBy God, I must escape her goddam gibberishI gotta make it all this way to the door
Troubles of that sort give me vertigo
Sometimes I would be grateful for an easy death
But even in death, I guess,I can’t escape the madhouse
Who are these people?And what do they want?Violent drugs took’em long agoSome of them claim to be doctorsSome don’t even know their own names
But I know my nameAnd I say my name aloud
Should I turn and leave the room in a state of controlled panic?
What if I fall face-downward on the stone floor?And my nose bleeds for a hundred hoursI gotta make it all this way to the door
Troubles of that sort give me vertigo
Sometimes I would be grateful for an easy death
But even in death, I guess,I can’t escape the madhouse
Can’t escape from the madhouse