See me through the pain, my guardian angel,
although I feel that I must surely die of shame.
See me through the dark night,
and don't blame me,
if I don't feel even remotely human
overnight.

Depression, with anxiety, is constipation of the mind.
Sometimes, the engine just won't start at all.
The singers, dancers, none of them perform.
The roll of the dice can be fatal,
when you live so near the Devil's playground.

The singers, dancers, none of them perform,
not in this particular theatre - not anymore.

Do the doctors really know
what they are doing? I don't think so!
I wish that they could, for once,
view the situation from my perspective.
Do you ever feel that way, too?
Do you ever feel like giving up?
I keep re-living pain and trauma,
and then they lose the bloody notes!
It sometimes makes me want to scream.
Do you understand?
Do you see what I mean?
The doctors don't!

Clinical depression
An illness not a
bad hair day
Don't they
Won't they
Understand
We try and try to
Carry on
Our endurance is
Higher than theirs'
In fact
But sometimes we just
Cannot
Do it fake it
Any longer
We just can't
take a moment more
And that is
That
We break down because
We must
Oh yes we must