When I grow up, I'm going to teach the world about mental health,
Of a chemical imbalance
That puts your brain in pain.
There's no choice in the matter,
It simply comes to stay.
They load us up on little white pills,
High priced medicine to numb inner turmoil.
Screaming orders of "easy" change;
Don't worry so much,
Just think positive,
It's only a piece of food.
Living robots of perfect health use empathy like detectives,
Sucking out secrets then leaving with long faces and sharp glares.
Names are piercing bullets afloat in a chilling atmosphere.
So change the robots programming,
Oil unused cogs and gears in dusty skulls.
Swing stiff shoulders open wide.
Replace their beating hearts with warm scarlet love.
Each panicked person now is soothed
By the tunes of an imbalance accepted.
So when I grow up, I'm going to teach the world about mental health.