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Just imagine, you__e on a stretcher in the hospital, being wheeled to the operating theatre, they inject you, put you to sleep_anaesthetic. You drift into blackness, you__e out and you__e the closest yet to death. Then a surgeon cuts into your body, rips you open, goes deep inside. Looks within, pulls a bit out, puts bits in, sews you up. Then! If you__e lucky, you awake! Some don__ wake, this is my point, will you wake? Why should you? How can you? That__ the black hole of madness you__e in! Screaming to get out: __live_ or just __ane_! You want out of it, you want to see the light!
Stephen Richards Insanity: My Mad Life
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Just imagine, you__e on a stretcher in the hospital, being wheeled to the operating theatre, they inject you, put you to sleep_anaesthetic. You drift into blackness, you__e out and you__e the closest yet to death. Then a surgeon cuts into your body, rips you open, goes deep inside. Looks within, pulls a bit out, puts bits in, sews you up. Then! If you__e lucky, you awake! Some don__ wake, this is my point, will you wake? Why should you? How can you? That__ the black hole of madness you__e in! Screaming to get out: __live_ or just __ane_! You want out of it, you want to see the light!

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