Friday, 3 October 2008
The Psych is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He maketh me to sit down in green armchairs:
He giveth me a glass of still water.
He shalt "restore my soul! And leadeth me down the path of the
pharmaceuticals for my own sake!"
Yea(h), even though I shalt then walk through
the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil:
For Selective Serotonin Reuptake
Inhibitors art with me!
Thy words though they're lies, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a prescription before me for
presentation to mine chemist: thou anointest my
Brain with drugs; my serotonin runneth over.
Surely Big Pharma shall haunt me
all the days of my life: and I shalt live
in a brain badly damaged