Jukebox




Lyrics to Ani's Song...



De-pression...

being labeled with de-pression isn't
exactly a good thing even though your
family and the clipboard holders think
it's some sort of relief to you to finally
be easily categorized into their minds

that now you don't need any kind of
self expression or anything else
that you can take the braids out of your hair
and the piercings from your face
and the orange clothes off your back

but all it really means is that now you
have to fight to hold beliefs and that
you have to sharpen those claws and
become that heartless person just so they
don't have the power to sacrifice you

and if you don't want to swim in
prescription bottles with prozac and
serzone and celexa and other drugs
i don't even know the names then
you have to be waiting at their mercy

you lose all control of your world and
they say no to friends and no to writing
and no to telephone calls that keep you
from sinking and no to setting your own
schedule and no to keeping your secrets

and everything you think is easily defined
i'm so bored (it's your depression)
i'm so tired (it's your depression)
i'm so lonely (it's your depression)
i'm so afraid (it's your depression)

i'm so angry (it's your depression)
i'm so ugly (it's your depression)
i'm so broke (it's your depression)
i'm so sick of school (it's your depression)
i'm not writing right (it's your depression)

i'm feeling isolated (it's your depression)
i'm mad at my sister (it's your depression)
i don't like drugs (it's your depression)
my guitar isn't singing (it's your depression)
i lost my book (it's your depression)

the gas prices are high (it's your depression)
the radio sucks here (it's your depression)
i don't like the candidates (it's your depression)
work is so slow (it's your depression)
my car has a flat (it's your depression)

everything gets an answer so easily once
they have you diagnosed into their little
world and i don't like it i don't like my label
but they don't listen and they never think
that maybe i have valid thoughts anymore

it just gets too simple to slide me into that slot
and i'll never get to be a real person again
i'll never get to have control or opinions
i'll never be listened to without a pre-judgement
made before i open my fat lips to mumble a word

but thank you for visitng me in the crazy ward
even though we both know it was you that locked me up
and thank you for taking the time to save my worthless skin
even though we both know it doesn't mean much to either of us
and thank you for holding me tight under your thumb

thank you for making sure i knew just how inferior i was to you
and for taking the time to make sure i knew i was not good
but i'm not a bad person i don't care what you say
i don't want to be your joke anymore i don't want
to fall down and fall for it and hold it up

you don't get to dismiss me and everything
i say and think and define myself with because
your phrases have never defined me to myself
they've never offered me a safe hole to hide like they do
no, i'm never going to let it sum my existence



Backwards to I Loved You, So What?
Forward to Not So Soft



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