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Arden House

Arden House, Arden House

You make me feel like a mouse,

When I have to go for a medical

As I stumble through the door

I know I've been here before,

Less clinical, more clerical/cynical

Will they pronounce me fit for work,

Even though it will make me beserk?

I try to act on their stage,

I'm shunted here and told to wait there

They make on like they care,

They don't see I'm full of rage.

Can I walk, kneel, or stand?

Can I do anything with my hand?

They ask me how I got here.

So I tell them I got up at three

And made a cup of tea,

Then fell asleep, I fear

And now I'm here.



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