The Life And Times (Of A Man Called Depression)

The truth is

It was hate at first sight

Starin' down the barrel of a man

With no real opinions

But with charm oozing from every pore

Just watch him glide across the floor

Does he turn left,

Will he turn right?

Checks himself in the mirror

At least a thousand times a day

It's where truth collides with fiction

He stands before him

The last remaining Gin king of England

Fearless, ruthless, cheerless, clueless

But lookin' like a million dollars (Wow!)

The emperor has got new clothes

He stands accused

Of being socially inept

Some say rude, aloof

Devoid of any real truth

He lives in a world of self-doubt

Self-pity, self-loathing, self-harm

The voices inside his head

Are playing Chinese whispers

As all around him play hide and seek

But don't ask him to put a smile on that face

Or to cheer up

Don't tell him it might never happen

Because you know what

It probably already did

Maybe show him some understanding

Give him time, let him breathe

Let him live, yeah

The emperor has got new clothes

Guess what

The world ended yesterday

Today is just an action replay

And hell is wherever heaven is not

So here I stand

The well informed optimist

Who refuses to turn on

Tune in, and drop out

I refuse to lose control

I refuse to let it wash all over me

I refuse to succumb to what your vision

Of happy should look like

Because it certainly doesn't look like you

And when the sign says stop

That's when I go

Like a clean, mean

Medicated fighting machines

Who's all dressed up

And ready to disco

The emperor has got new clothes