Written by: Goode Guy

somethin' ain't right
somethin' ain't cool
my head's poundin' hot
need ta see somebody who'll

be able to give me a diagnoses,
to tell me my likely prognosis
'cause I jus' don't know what to do, 
I think I got the subliminal flu

below the threshold of perception
I'm chilled hot an' shakin' over
I think I've contracted self-deception
moreover, I'm sure I've got overexposure

I can't sleep, I obviously can't dream
my palms are sweatin' wet 'n' sticky
ain't nothin' like what it really seems
my mind, my brain, my god! I'm sickly!!

my chest is palpitatin'
my eyelids are justa flutterin'
the whole damn thing's so aggravatin'
I wish I could jus' stop this sufferin'

you think "it's all in my head"
and I hope that you'd be right
'cause if it moves into my heart
I'll be dead before midnight

"breathe" I tell myself, "jus' breathe"
it'll be alright if ya just chill it
just fall in bed or jus' crawl underneath
better thrown for a loop than thrown for a fit

Ahhhh, now -- inhale -- breathe again
that's better, s l o w e r...ok now
- sometimes bein' me is just a bane
but thanks, I'm better, recoupin' somehow

I'm gettin' back from this virile attack

© Goode Guy 2013-01-22

yeah I know it's spell'd "hypochondria"...