Happy Pills

After years of hiding my wrists
I never thought I'd end up like this.

Lying alone in a hospital bed,
and only days before I thought I'd be left for dead.

Sitting in a brightly colored room week after week,
sitting quietly while only the counselor speaks.

Two months had passed when the doctor flew in.
He saw I was no better so he gave me a prescription.

A prescription of happy pills, my mother called them.
A month of taking happy pills and I must be better, there was no question.

And every time I frown, every time I cry,
every time I can't sleep and stay up through the night,
she tells me to take some more happy pills,
they'll make everything alright.

But tonight I can't take it, I'm too close to the edge.
I think only of that night I should have been left for dead.

'So take a happy pill' she says. 'Two should suffice.
Take those happy pills and maybe we'll see you smile tonight'.

But oh no, mother,
two does not suffice.
I'll try three,
I'll try four.
I'll take a handful of happy pills,
and maybe I'll happily live no more.