There's a notch in his brain which causes much pain.
It's not of regression--
But that of depression.
Over the years, they've changed many gears--
While screaming through tears. 'Tis greater than fears.
They've changed them again, on needle and pin--
Never to win, as time grows thin.
Often it hinds him, yet always it blends him--
In broad daylight, it's blacker than night--
A poison of night, no end do they sight.
They reach here and there, to only despair--
Of the heart it does tear, of the mind it does wear.
How much can they bear, will there ever be sir?
They've tried and they've cried, but know down inside--
In the wool it is dyed. In quiet they hide.