Linoleum, mausoleum, tobacco and elegies
Where can I find you in this Necropolis?
Hello? Customer services? Could you please send me a map
Of this overgrown outer space hell?
Maybe I should look in the Yellow Pages
Are you under A, abstinence (in the sarcastic sense)?
Or O, oblivion?

First you rock everything around you
Then you let it all roll away in your despair
After ten years someone comes along and tells you
Rock is dead and roll isn't what it used to be
And when the music is over
You realize the sweetie in your arms sounds nothing like her
Yet she's long gone, with a swollen belly and a hollow chest

The nightmare begins when they tell you you're not well
And you keep on screaming at the walls in your cell
That you're sane and truly sane, and sane, and sane, and sane
What can I say when I'm the one trying to make them understand
I'm not in my right mind: every time I wake up
I'm so far away from my bed, and the snakes on the floor
Keep on coming closer, and there's no Bagheera to stop them from throttling me

You refuse to admit your life has happened
And you missed it just like every birthday, anniversary and special occasion
Whereas I try to tell them I didn't sign up for the marathon at all
But they still insist on giving me prizes and pats on the back
Who is it that decided they could bend all the rules?

Perhaps someday when they say you're cured
Honey will show up on your doorstep on a midsummer night
With two suitcases and bleached pink hair
She'll tell you she doesn't know who her daddy is
And all she's got is your address
Along with mommy's tales of Sunday meetings at the ice-cream shop
And just one magic Tuesday night with cigarettes and wine

I used to think it was all forbidden…

AN: Wow, a little something in prose for a verse!!! Tell me what you think about it, usually all I write rhymes more or less and is four-verse stanza! This is refreshing...but dunno if it's good! I think it's cliché...