there's a ghost that lives among us
so pale and distant like the moon
yet it creeps inside our hearts like
churned acid after a bad feeling
it turns your blood to ice and crystals
and sucks all five senses from you
nobody can think while the ghost is there
foul and parasitic, attached to the soul
better think twice just in case
everyone tries to cast it out in vain
twisting, scratching and cursing at the air
hair torn from scalps, nails embedded in walls
futile, vain, useless; the ghost lives on
choking the soul 'til it goes insane
well, even more insane
'til the body is frail and blank
and of no more use to the ghost
its wispy figure flits out the door
set out to find another poor soul
succulent and rich and just a bit mad
it likes them like that, everyone knows
and the thought makes 'em all fret
because they all know the truth
everyone's mad
this ghost, you know, it has a name
Paranoia.