Текст песни Lydia Lunch - Outpatients

The psychotic babble of the outpatients next door starts to drive me insane
The voices in my own head begin to blur with theirs
Causing disequilibrium, dizziness, nausea
They relive, relieve their awful memories
Which spill out their windows and into mine
Trailing echoes of terror, trauma, tragedy
Crying, coughing, laughing, weeping, begging
Their little thoughts ricochet around my head
Like the desperate squall of cicadas
Endlessly rubbing their legs together
Searching frantically for a suitable mate

I can't separate their thoughts from mine
Their haunted childhoods replayed in gruesome detail
Exaggerated or not for maximum effect
In order to procure the proper medications
Whose increased dosage will help to minimalize the aftershocks
Of a humiliated life both past and present
I'm not so fortunate

Snippets of conversations free fall against warm brick
Trickle upward and cloud my vision
Their scoldings, scaldings, beatings mingle with my own nightmares
Grim grimy fairytales, hard luck stories, lousy jokes
Incriminations flavor every dialog
Even their doctors deliver speeches meant only for their own benefit
And of course I've heard it all before
I've heard too much
Hear too much
Too acutely

The wasp against the drainpipe stupidly battering itself
In a wasted effort to gain entry
Field mice in a neurotic scramble seeking rotted scraps on which to feast
The long distance moan of a mournful freight train
Miles away from the stockyards and slaughterhouses
On whose outskirts hobos wander
Waiting for stray fowl to find its way out to the smoke and spit
The endless muttering of the seven borderline personalities next door
The human zoo
All suffering from multiple fractures whimpering like animals
Pleading, begging for compassion, for understanding
Knowledge, respect, companionship
For humanity
Who inhabit, cohabitate with not only each other
But the multiple others who dwell within themselves