Mindfield

His schizoid personality

Fragmented at the age of eight

His grandmother brought him to me

For treatment, but it was too late

For he has tasted blood

And his mind- his mind is mud

And it's black, oozing mud

His cannibalistic urges

Originated who knows where

I can't make my diagnosis

He nauseates me, I don't care

For he has made me sick

And his mind- his mind is shit

And in the black, a wicked wit

And if it wasn't illegal

I'd cut his throat with a penknife

I'd hang his bones in my office

If it wasn't immoral

For I have tasted blood

And my mind...