Psychiatric Crack

A psychologist is a person who decided to spend a lot of money, To recieve a piece of paper that says they know everything about me. Sure I'll talk, but they won't listen for anything but a hint, Of reason to recommend a psychiatrist to deal me another script. Psychiatrists are glorified drug dealers hired by Pfizer and their friends, Who experiment with legal crack and meth to try and make the suffering end. I studied the mind as well in school, recieving awards and honors, And learned that western medicine is but a corrupt business at its core. Psychiatric doctors convincing customers that their minds aren't right, Ignoring the syndrome of society and its environmental plight. Pills are but a capitalistic product of this terrible medical field, When plants can cure what ails us with each season's yield. I studied government as well in school, recieving awards and honors, Learning that one reason pot's still illegal is because idiots deny it as a cure. Sitting in school eight hours a day for eighteen years, Is what an IBM machine is for, which won't be robbed of human cheer. Four years of pretending degrees will reward us for our studies, Left us indebted to unpayable loans and jobs whose minimum pay is cruddy. So if you want to think my problems stem from a disease inside my brain, Keep ignoring the economic ties and lies that are making me insane.