Some people say that I'm enthusiastic, foolish some say or inane.
But I've been declared non compos mentis. The fact is I'm mildly insane.
Touched, some would say, or even quite cracky,
Mindless or cuckoo or nutty or whacky.
I'd like to say that I'm crazy for you love, but the fact is that I'm simply mad.
Reason you see means nothing to me. I live in a world all my own.
You'll find me waiting just around the bend, fruity as a nutcake at home.
So you ignore me but I'm not impressed, depressed or happy or glad
I'd like to say that I'm crazy for you love, but the fact is that I'm simply mad.
I used to be in an institution, the place with the soft padded cells
Where they pilled me and stabbed me and soaked me in solutions
Until I had gotten quite well.
They put me on meds and they put me on the street. And so for a time I did swell
But once upon a time I forgot my medication now here I am as crazy as hell.
Not angry nor seething nor irate nor wrathful though maybe I'm fit to be tied.
Not ireful nor sore nor hot under the collar, if so I said then I'd say that I'd lied.
Crazy as a loon, mad as a hatter I'm totally out of my head.
I'd like to say that I'm crazy for you love.
But the fact is I'm stark raving,
The reason's I'm depraving,
Who cares what the facts is I'm mad!