The Life and Times (Of a Man Called Depression)

The truth is It was hate at first sight Starin' down the barrel of a man With no real opinions But with charm oozing from every pore Just watch him glide across the floor Does he turn left, Will he turn right? Checks himself in the mirror At least a thousand times a day It's where truth collides with fiction He stands before him The last remaining Gin king of England Fearless, ruthless, cheerless, clueless But lookin' like a million dollars (Wow!) The emperor has got new clothes He stands accused Of being socially inept Some say rude, aloof Devoid of any real truth He lives in a world of self-doubt Self-pity, self-loathing, self-harm The voices inside his head Are playing Chinese whispers As all around him play hide and seek But don't ask him to put a smile on that face Or to cheer up Don't tell him it might never happen Because you know what It probably already did Maybe show him some understanding Give him time, let him breathe Let him live, yeah The emperor has got new clothes Guess what The world ended yesterday Today is just an action replay And hell is wherever heaven is not So here I stand The well informed optimist Who refuses to turn on Tune in, and drop out I refuse to lose control I refuse to let it wash all over me I refuse to succumb to what your vision Of happy should look like Because it certainly doesn't look like you And when the sign says stop That's when I go Like a clean, mean Medicated fighting machines Who's all dressed up And ready to disco The emperor has got new clothes