Songs of Life
Parkinsons for Me
I think I know what the problem is, but I can’t hear past the voices in my mind.
Sometimes they whisper and sometimes they shout but mostly they’re just unkind.
It’s almost as if someone is watching me, and keeping tabs on all of my sins.
I can’t really tell, did it start when I fell; It's like I’m wrapped in a blanket of pins.
If only the whistle would quit whining; It rings constantly in my ears.
I wake up in the night to delusions of sight, as I fight to control my fears.
The Grim Reaper might be standing at the end of the bed, with his sickle in his hand.
I react with my fists, I’m awake but asleep, when I swing it’s on the floor I land.
Then there are the tremors and shakes, that keep you awake, until the early light.
You never dream or so it seems until the sun is really bright.
Still they tell me I am not asleep, and I’m never completely awake.
Falling from bed and landing on my head is the last mistake I’ll make.
There’s a reason they’re called hardwood floors, it’s like running into a wall full bore.
My balance is gone and my hearing is wrong as I start my day once more.
Parkinsons for Me
