Crazy Man

I'm crazy. Don't laugh, I am. I told you about the hospital. 
People say they're crazy, but I have proof. Want to see my papers?

My brother shot himself. (And I'm the crazy one.) I think it's my fault. She tells me it's not. My girl tells me no. But she wasn't there. She doesn't know. She didn't know my brother.

I work in a bank. I give away money to people all day.
They fill out the request and I hand them the cash. I wish I had
that much dough. My Harley is on order and I pay when I can. 
Unlike these people, I have to wait. Wait for what I want.
When my drawer doesn't balance I get stressed. I lose sense of
who I am and what I'm doing. I go crazy. I have proof.

I work long hours and when I come home to my room sleep is all I want. I grab for the bottle of pills. They keep me sane. I'm crazy.
They help me sleep. Keeping the bad thoughts away is important. But… when I want to stay awake I take the other bottle. They keep me awake so I can have fun with my girl. She's not crazy, like me.

My driver's license is restricted. I caused trouble at a recruiting office. The cops knew I was crazy. THEY believed me.

I don't want to go back. Back to that place. The screams. The pain I hated that place. That CRAZY place. I hold my girl close and let her know I hate that crazy place and won't go back. I know she thinks I'm lying. She must be crazy like the rest of them.