insanity tastes like liquor... or so they tell me in the night
but others say it just tastes like the last bitter kiss of a lover scorned
and there is something to it... I felt that before
just a lot of madness after that last drop of bitter water
mixed with swollen lips and a guilty conscience
Does this drive you crazy?
The nagging words in your head
or the smoldering ideas that run under that hammering skull?
That dirty mind of yours... I thought you had it cured?
I thought so too, but then I started to enjoy all the dark places that it took me
Try some pills... my imagination takes me further
Ever tried reality? over and over again, got me into a lot of trouble
the law doesn’t agree on my current state... but makes no difference
because the doctors stamped the yellow papers... the pink pills taste bitter too
the burning water does me more good
What did you ask before? What is insanity to me?
insanity is the madness in my eyes
perfectly reflected in yours, when you ask me
Pass me the glass, love... I will fill it up for you, you look thirsty.