Crazy

He was crazy - certifiably  - for sure - crazy
And his crazy was so familiar!
Disturbingly familiar.
It was the crazy
Born of denying the thing you are - gone crazy -
Of hiding in the dark
Year after year
Because you are just one thing
And it's not wanted,
Or so you think.
And there it is, I believe,
That I see what it was that was so crazy - 
For it was wanted,
Wanted by some - wanted by many!
But he was crazy! - half crazy at least - more - far more!
Crazy for believing he could not sing!
And that was the craziest thing of all,
Because there was music in his soul!
Fine music!
Pay for the album fine music!
And there it was - upon the paper
Written down and sung over and over 
To the emptiness of his room
But he denied us the thing he was
Because...
Crazy!
I don't understand it!
And it saddens my soul - deeply. 
And I can say - because I've rolled it over
And over in my mind.
That I don't think that he was crazy -
Just afraid - 
And crazy,
Crazy like a muzzled, pent up bird goes crazy,
Crazy like the violin afraid to sing - gone crazy
Crazy cause he did not dare 
To let it out
Accept upon the inner walls
Of his very own self-made prison.
And there it burst out
Uncontrollably
On every surface
In random, useless beauty
For no-one there to see --
Accept her.
He drove her crazy - absolutely crazy!
I don't know how she did it.
It wasn't compassion
It wasn't love.
For she was crazy
Crazy for not leaving him,
Crazy for not forcing him out of the house,
Crazy for not telling him
To man up and sing
Or die!
But then again,
Perhaps she saw
Behind the sunken eyes
And the yellow pallor of his skin
The beautiful soul that waited there
Longing to be seen, but fearful.
Or perhaps still, she was not crazy.
Perhaps she liked it just that way,
Perhaps she loved to keep him there,
Not because his art delighted her
But because she could say
That it was hers,
Like the chickadee kept against the law
And gone mad for want of wild things.
Yes, perhaps she liked him just that way
A little or lot crazy
Or not - who can say?
Who dares to try
To comprehend
The lot of those gone crazy?
There's been many a madhouse
Filled with such who could not let it go.
And so, I lay it down 
Right here.
And walk away.
I will not stay.
For I've a song to sing today.