Gotta Get The Gist

In my head there's 12 dozen angry men.

They're all talking at the same time

and singing songs and they're skipping the chorus

and I can't sing along.

I'm in a state of panic.

My head is constant static.

15 different radios playing 15 different songs

and they're all skipping the chorus

and I can't sing along.

I'm not mad, it's a panic attack.

It's a cyclical effect.

Depression spiraling out of control.

It's not you I hope you know.

They're all asking questions

and I can't hardly hear them.

I just bark, glare or hist

and they'll never get the gist.