Better Off Dead

Can’t keep tape on my mouth, I can’t put locks on my door
I can’t just stay in this house, I just can’t do it anymore
You got this collar so tight, playing tricks on my eyes
It’s like I’m swinging my fists when I’m not in a fight

Don’t know when I’m awake or when I’m dreaming
I got these voices in my head
Strap up that straitjacket on me
I asked that doctor what he say
He said: “There ain’t enough meds
Poor boy, you better off dead”

Had four twenties in my drawer, call three numbers to report
I couldn’t tell you who it was but someone’s stealing from the poor
Shadows following me, I feel its legs, I’m asleep
They say I’m losing it hard, count down from ten when I breathe, whoa

I got these voices in my head
Strap up that straitjacket on me
I asked that doctor what he say
He said: “There ain’t enough meds
Poor boy, you better off dead”

I don’t care what people say, I’m anything but crazy, crazy
Talking to my shadow, only she know I’m not crazy, crazy

[Hook 2]