Nervous Breakdown (The Indian Wind)

NERVOUS BREAKDOWN (THE INDIAN WIND) - Written by Carroll Bryant

I gaze at the stars and I see someone 

Gazing back at me

The moon is sad because it's made of cheese

And the indian wind blows

The indian dances to the fire

The indian wind blows

As meaningless as time appears to be

It means nothing

Hands of a clock

Hands of time release me

And the indian wind blows

The indian is standing in the fire

The indian wind blows

Save me from the slaves

A flower grows inside my brain

The mushrooms are killing me

And I get so isolated laying in my grave

I feel so tired

I feel so all alone

The flower grows

Watch the flower grow 

I can't escape your petty pain

Your pathetic little lives are meaningless to me

I am not your soul

I am not your shame

The flower tries to grow in the chance

That it will rain

Legends live

Legends die

Run with me to suicide

I'll take you to that place

I'll take you to that hell

Eat your faithful heart

And die until you're dead with me

I want your company

I need you my love

And the indian wind blows

The indian is pointing at me from the fire

The indian wind blows

Poets live and poets die

Make love in my suicide 

I'll take you to that place

I'll take you to that hell

Eat your poisoned heart

And lie to you

You know I will

Am I the oracle that rapes you of your sin?

Can't I judge and not be true to the consequence? 

Lovers live and lovers die

Be born into a suicide 

I'll take you to that place

I'll take you to that hell

Eat your beating heart

And in your ruse I'll dwell

I need you my love

The indian wind blows

The indian holds me in the fire

The indian wind blows