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I'm trying to make up my mind |
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Madness or cruel-to-be-kind? |
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Your mother was sick or blind |
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When she gave her child away |
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But what she did |
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She did out of love |
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She must have meant it |
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As an act of kindness |
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And having never had a kid myself |
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I cannot understand the pressures |
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"...you must be sick in the head |
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You need a hospital bed" she said |
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"Properly fed" she said |
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"Or you're going to wind up dead" |
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So you were put |
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In the hands of science |
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Strangers who understood |
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Better than mothers could |
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It was really "for your own good" |
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See, we find these ways |
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To justify it all |
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Are they really working? |
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I'm trying to make up my mind |
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I'm trying to make up my mind |
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It gets harder every time |
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I see a baby mother |
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Or think about growing up and having kids |
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Oh God, she must have done it out of love |
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I must believe it was an act of kindness |
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I keep imagining the film 'Girl Interrupted' |
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With less attractive inmates |
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"All of the things that you feel |
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They are a fucking disease" they said |
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"We diagnose it with ease" they said |
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"There is no hope of a release" they said |
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So you found yourself |
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Inside a prison with no escape |
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Tied to a gurney with thick red tape |
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Nursing a wound that is mother-shape |
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"When can I go back home? |
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I want to make a fucking call |
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All these pills do is make me sleep..." |
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Onetwoonetwoonetwo |
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You wished you could unmake yourself |
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Become something else |
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To be something awful |
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"To be smoke and shadow" |
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I understand the idea that A.D.D. is an imbalance |
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'Depression,' that is an imbalance of chemicals |
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It makes sense. |
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But couldn't you argue that everything is? |
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Joy, fear, anger, sadness? |
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Can you diagnose love? |
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Can you diagnose loss? |
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See, we find this ways |
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To justify it all |
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But is it really working? |