Each time I have the same vision,
And I make the same decision,
To make the same incision,
It takes a lot of precision,
Sat in my room, shut in
Now the needle is in,
And I let the blood flow begin,
When to stop? As the flow gets thin,
Darkened veins,
I've got sick brains,
Like being tie down with chains
Oh what pains,
I solely depend on you,
This is nothing new,
It's something I always knew,
But it helps me through,
Scars on my hands,
All because of my body's demands,
Theses conditions should have bans,
Not fans!
Mental institution?,
Is that the solution,
That would be a revolution,
And take a lot of execution.