Yale University Press - The Asylum lyrics

I love my asylum, My home in the skies, Splashed with splendid color, Drenched in dazzling dyes: Clouds and winds and oceans, Blue above—below. I love my asylum. . . But the other inmates? No! All in our asylum Are mad as can be. I stick my tongue at them. They stick their tongues at me. And purple authorities And gilded bloody gods All rule in our asylum With black whips and rods. And men cry Alleluia To hop-toads with wings; And women love poodles; And all love breaking things, Love swearing and peering, Love reptiles and lice. . . You see, in my asylum It isn't very nice. But sometimes the windows Are bust by magic dawns, And then we see far vistas Of star-embroidered lawns Where rational angels Are laughing like fun, But, of course, in our asylum It simply isn't done! So one wears a crown, One piles his gold in rows, One balances a feather On the end of his nose. One's a sword-swallower, One mumbles One-two-three. And all in our asylum Are unhappy as can be. For, you see, the whole trouble (Though we're absolutely mad) Is, we fear a strange sensation We have sometimes had. So sometimes we huddle close And clutch at heart and brain. For I'll tell you what's the trouble: We're afraid of going—sane!