I used to wrestle Madness in the middle of the night.
Tossing and turning in the dark, and praying for the light.
He crept away when morning came and hid in the back of my head.
Crouching in the darkest corner, until I came back to bed.
I was afraid that Madness might find me in the middle of the day.
Would he show up uninvited? What would he do, what would he say?
I walked the streets with Madness, once.
I could feel him right behind me.
It was a dark and gloomy day,
so it was easy for him to find me.
I tried to run from Madness but didn’t get very far.
He followed me through the city, and met me at the bar.
I bought a drink for Madness, then I bought another round.
I thought that if I got him drunk, maybe I’d keep him down.
But I found myself dancing with Madness until 3 in the morning.
I really should’ve seen this coming, but I didn’t heed the warning.
So I went home with Madness and I let him stay with me.
I thought if I kept him close and tight, he might not ever break free.
I spent my time alone with Madness, with no one else around.
Tortured by the silence, tormented by each sound.
Just me, myself and Madness, face to face and eye to eye.
We kept our solitary company as the ticking time went by.
I got to know my Madness in those deepest darkest days.
And knowing him has changed me in so very many ways.
It turns out we’re so similar, we really are two of a kind.
I don’t know what I was afraid of.
I must’ve been out of my mind.
I used to wrestle Madness
in the middle of the night.
I just embrace him in the light.