Diana:
They told me that the wiring
Was somehow all misfiring,
And screwing up the signals
In my brain.

And then they told me chemistry,
The juice, and not the circuitry,
Was mixing up, and making me insane.

What happens when the burn has healed,
But the skin has not regrown?
What happens when the cast,
At last, come off,
And then you find the break
Was always in another bone?

They tried a million meds, and
They strapped to their beds, and
They shrugged and told me,
"That's the way it goes."

When finally you hit it,
I asked you just what did it
You shrugged, and said
That no one really knows.

What happens if the medicine
Wasn't really in control?
What happens if the cut,
The burn, the break,
Was never in my brain,
Or in my blood,
But in my soul?

What happens if the cut,
The burn, the break,
Was never in my brain,
Or in my blood,
But in my soul?