The shady art of bloodletting…
Doctor dear, are you forgetting
A century ago (no more)
That this my symptom was your cure
For lunacy in all its guises?
Though i suppose i'd win no prizes
For guessing it was just a way
Of making mad and bad folks pay,
A tribute, tax on broken minds
For those by families left behind.
Secret, sacred, all that's left
When one finds oneself bereft,
Thoughts lost of felicity,
Take blood too, i'm going free,
Spare parts for anyone who'd have me.
Nowadays you're much more savvy,
Tithing surreptitiously,
Words, instead of bodily
Fluids, ruby-like, my treasure
These tomb raids harder to measure
So while you're feeling quick and spry
Slip right in and drain me dry

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