Dear Depression, it’s not you, it’s me
Wait; actually, I lied, it’s really you
I’ve seen your efforts to immobilize
It’s high time for us to reprioritize
I’ve heard that misery loves company
Yet your brand of love is rarely requited
Don’t you think it’s funny how time flies
When we’re having none of this melancholy?
Care to wallow in my past?
We’re over twenty years and
A thousand miles from Michigan Boulevard
Better bring your walking shoes
I see your insurgence masquerading as camaraderie
Just a barren inventory of counterfeit companionship
Your Bay of Pigs will not depose me
You may be phony tough, but I’m crazy brave