Cold eyes of deep black are watching him
thrown shackled into dirty water, where he has to swim,
Born into a world of turmoil and strife
really, very little worth to his life
in shackles of protocol, shackled for life
deadened by destruction, routine and a knife.
Evil forces prevent him from seeing the one
the dark forces of Mar have only begun
battling bullets of brutality and pain
causing corruption within his brain
in his sights, they try to restrain
they all attack him. Izzy Insane?
They swarm around him to cause paranoia
he knows all too well that it could annoy ya
they all are after him, their purpose, unknown
it might be, after all, for the golden cone
a horn of plenty, or an evil death, blown
the forces of Mar are confusing, you’ve known
he writes away, slowly, to help deal with the pain
the one in the brain, he’s Izzy Insane?.
He sees massive decay, and destruction to boot
he thinks of his life as a real effen hoot
sometimes he even thinks he should shoot
but that would only mute.
He possesses an arsenal of useless weapons
he’s running wild, and away from his queens and pawns
he fights with those who would try to explain
that there are no real demons invading his brain
he may seem smart, but he’s really quite inane
and he goes by the name, of Izzy Insane?.
The commandoes attack him, by the rill
he’s sure that they’re hiding behind the hill
there is ice in the water, even though it is June
a pale, yellow circle in the sky? The moon!
And everywhere he goes, he sings annoyingly out of tune
sometimes he imitates the cry of the loon
brushing himself off as realization sets in
if it were any worse, he’d jump out of his skin
the eyes of the grim one watch from above
he feels all cold, and wet is his glove
his situation really gave him a shove
and strong is whatever he is dying of
a hiss whirrs annoyingly through his ears
and sometimes he feels their threatening shears
the sky pales in a pre-dawn light
slowly he prepares himself for a fight
he only sees them as a blight
he’s been quaking in his boots, throughout the night.
The world seems to be crushing him on his shoulders
he feels like he’s carrying quite heavy boulders
in the streets or in the lane
all he ever does is complain
he is always dancing in the rain
he is known to the world as Izzy Insane?
The universe collapses in upon him
he angrily exclaims that the lights were brought down upon him
he cowers every time they shine the light
he sleeps in the day and he works at night
he shreds his writings, but he really has sight
he only dreams of things that bite.
Before he was high on the crystal sheen
and then he came onto the scene
One day, when he came out, in the rain
a bolt of lightning hit his mane
he knew that something was out to get him, to his disdain
and he always blamed Him, Izzy Insane?
He suffered some, under the evil hand
always compelled to comply with command
involved with forces he can’t understand, but he tries
he doesn’t know about the ties
he has always eaten the freshly baked pies
he breaks from the pack, and believes their lies
the skies are blackened from the bombs he’s dropped
he’s waxed the floors and also mopped
the visions have made him hallucinate
he always chose the thin ice to skate
was he really crazy, or was it something he ate?
He figured it would be best to wait
the eyes stare down upon him
he smiles as he tries to con it
but he knows that he never will
wherever he goes, he feels the chill
shadows and ghosts attack his fill
>all the while he was eating swill
he fears their attacks, and madness feign
he bears the name of Izzy Insane.
And almost as if by magic he shakes at the seem
calling them all out into the gleam
and all at once he quakes with a scream
finally he wakes from his nightmarish dream.