You done? You aren’t even here.
And now you throw your weight around?
You think I want your charity?
It’s you who’s “mentally unsound”.
I’ve had this now for eighteen years,
And you couldn’t even notice till
I sat you down and told you all
Two years ago when he got ill.
You say I’m making all this up?
A lifetime pass for all mistakes?
A crutch to rest my failures on?
I sabotage my lucky breaks?
Of course, it’s all just in my mind.
It’s called a “mental illness”, yo!
You get your nosebleed in the butt?
You get your headaches in the toe?
You love me, yes. I love you too.
I know you care. I am no fool.
I know you’re scared. I have been too.
But what you said – that isn’t cool.
I’ve made my path myself so far.
I’ll make it every single day.
You do not have to walk with me.
But do not either block my way.