He was crazy - certifiably - for sure - crazy
And his crazy was so familiar! Disturbingly familiar. It was the crazy Born of denying the thing you are - gone crazy - Of hiding in the dark Year after year Because you are just one thing And it's not wanted, Or so you think. And there it is, I believe, That I see what it was that was so crazy - For it was wanted, Wanted by some - wanted by many! But he was crazy! - half crazy at least - more - far more! Crazy for believing he could not sing! And that was the craziest thing of all, Because there was music in his soul! Fine music! Pay for the album fine music! And there it was - upon the paper Written down and sung over and over To the emptiness of his room But he denied us the thing he was Because... Crazy! I don't understand it! And it saddens my soul - deeply. And I can say - because I've rolled it over And over in my mind. That I don't think that he was crazy - Just afraid - And crazy, Crazy like a muzzled, pent up bird goes crazy, Crazy like the violin afraid to sing - gone crazy Crazy cause he did not dare To let it out Accept upon the inner walls Of his very own self-made prison. And there it burst out Uncontrollably On every surface In random, useless beauty For no-one there to see -- Accept her. He drove her crazy - absolutely crazy! I don't know how she did it. It wasn't compassion It wasn't love. For she was crazy Crazy for not leaving him, Crazy for not forcing him out of the house, Crazy for not telling him To man up and sing Or die! But then again, Perhaps she saw Behind the sunken eyes And the yellow pallor of his skin The beautiful soul that waited there Longing to be seen, but fearful. Or perhaps still, she was not crazy. Perhaps she liked it just that way, Perhaps she loved to keep him there, Not because his art delighted her But because she could say That it was hers, Like the chickadee kept against the law And gone mad for want of wild things. Yes, perhaps she liked him just that way A little or lot crazy Or not - who can say? Who dares to try To comprehend The lot of those gone crazy? There's been many a madhouse Filled with such who could not let it go. And so, I lay it down Right here. And walk away. I will not stay. For I've a song to sing today.
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