Congratulations

What are my hands for
I don't know anymore
Why are my eyes sore
I don't know anymore
Why is my voice raw
I don't know anymore
Your blistered bed sores
How they still make my skin crawl

I say congratulations, mental patients

I've got my wrists strapped down
Obeying the sounds in my head
And several circus clowns
Are bleeding out under my bed
And there're no words I've found
That can turn it around
This story ends six feet
Under the ground
I think I'm better off dead

I say congratulations, mental patients
Enjoy your medication's sweet stay-cations

And there's no words to be found
That can turn it around
This story ends six feet
Under the ground
I hope I die getting head

I say congratulations, mental patients
Enjoy hallucinations and revelations

I say congratulations, mental patients
And join the reservation's sweet vibrations



Credits
Writer(s): Chris Mccabe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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