Catch it early, before it spreads, you’re young and fit, you’re in good stead.
When all’s said and done, and the fighting’s begun, I suppose you could say, it’s better that way.
The doctor says take all the meds you can muster, we’ll batter ‘em hard, let the tiny cells fluster.
You reckon that where there’s a will there’s a way, and I guess you are right, I feel better today.
Then there’s moments alone, in the dead of the night. Dreams of hope mixed with fear, dreams of fading sunlight.
I train the brain through the strain, come what will, come what may, “keep steady now, from the path never stray!”
Then you spin and you fall, lose your mind, lose it all. So I talked and it helped, spilled the beans, spilled myself.
But it’s never quite real, that road that I steal. All those games that I play, all the thoughts I betray.
Still, I am better, trust me, with this brand new memory. They ask me questions today, “I’m ok”’s what I say.
Because I wiped myself clean, pretend things never seen. It keeps sadness at bay, all those things I can’t say.
So I sit here in silence, laugh and smile with violence. In this life lived in grey, I’m better that way.
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