Do you know what you want
Well now I will suck my marigolds
Do you know what you want
There's a lot to learn
Well it may be destructive
"Prozac" was written as a reaction to something I heard on the evening news. The drug Prozac was coming into popularity in the early 90's. It was known to alleviate depression. It also had the unique side effect of making people feel more organized and productive. This truly disgusted me. On one hand, I understand the need for drugs to counterbalance irreparable chemical imbalances. However, I refuse to see how erasing your personality in order to be more productive is beneficial. One night I was watching 60 Minutes and they ran a profile on a young executive who took Prozac in order to get ahead at work. Apparently, it worked. At the same time, she lost a lot of what made her unique. I got down right pissed at this. We all have our hard days. We all forget things from time to time. No one is perfect. But, c’mon, taking a pill to fix our flaws? Life is supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t, how else would we grow?
Hey little girl
Outside the circle
Break the heart that holds you down
Hey little boy
What were you thinking
That I could be the one to burn it down oh no
Well if underwater mountaintops are still too high
Break the ice that holds you down
Hey number five
What were you thinking
That I could be the one to burn it down again
You don't want what I've got
Do you know what you need
You need things that I can't see
Do you know where to go
Where you go I don't know
Do you know what you want
What you want
Burn it down
Yeah in the mouth
Spit it out
Just exactly as before
And break the lie that holds me down
There is no point in
In being like before
So I will be the one to burn it down once more
You don't want what I've got
Do you know what you need
You need things that I can't see
Do you know where to go
Where you go I don't know
Do you know what you want
What you want
Burn it down
In the mouth
In getting what you deserve
So why can't you see
That everything is wrong with me
And I could do without
At least I'm still productive
I do not possess the strength to spit it out
And it may be destructive
At least I'm still productive
I do not possess the strength to spit it out
It may be destructive
At least I'm still productive
It may be destructive
Mike Garrigan on
"Prozac":
Lyrics gathered by M. Gross
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