[Intro] Look— If you had one shot, one group in the whole week To calm your brain down, Would you ground it? Or just honk back Like the geese? [Verse 1] His palms are sweaty, meds heavy, mind ain't steady, There's coffee on his hoodie already—night’s spaghetti. He's anxious, but on the surface says he's group-ready, He keeps breathing deep, but he's not calm yet, not really. What he wrote down? No one knows, Coping cards bent, blown ’cross the floor by the wind that blows. The ducks quack loud, chaos grows, He tries grounding—“five things you see”—but he froze. He’s choking, no joking, he’s stuck in emotion, Retreating to the hallway like a ship on the ocean. He’s hoping the facilitator don’t call his name, But the circle keeps turning and they want him to explain. Snap back to the group again—oh, there goes sanity, Oh, there goes rationality, lost to the calamity. He’s pissed—but in MSR nobody judges that. He opens up and admits it: “My brain’s hijacked.” [Chorus] You better lose yourself in the group, in the moment, You own it—your thoughts slip, better try not to show it. You only get one week, and then a new cycle starts— This therapy life’s pulling brain cells apart. You better goose-step through grounding before you detonate, Feathered monsters outside are screaming “Regulate!” The ducks squawk loud when you’re trying to reform— This mindfulness sky? Yeah bro, it’s torn. [Verse 2] His thoughts are a circus, a mess and berserkish, The struggle bus screeches and the brakes barely work-ish. He opens his journal—it's chaos he sees, A doodle war between his stress and geese. No quiet, no peace, just overthinking increase, And the ducks outside doing gang-signs like street geese. He wants coping skills? Man, he’s “skill-adjacent,” He laughs darkly: “Please release me from my brain’s basement.” He goes home, tries sleep—brain won’t participate, Mind throws jump-scares at 3AM just to irritate. Alarms ring early, dread kicks in hardcore, He bargains with the universe: “Five minutes more…” MSR’s his home turf, healing in progress, He’s working on boundaries, burnout, the nonsense. He breathes in slow… but the geese squawk loud— And he mutters, “Man, I’m done with this flocking crowd.” [Chorus] You better lose yourself in the group, in the moment, You own it—your thoughts slip, better try not to show it. You only get one week, and then a new cycle starts— This therapy life’s pulling brain cells apart. You better goose-step through grounding before you detonate, Feathered monsters outside are screaming “Regulate!” The ducks squawk loud when you’re trying to reform— This mindfulness sky? Yeah bro, it’s torn. [Bridge] No more panic to fight, the room’s fluorescent light Is buzzing like it’s judging how he’s coping tonight. He’s tired of his brain pulling him like tug-of-war rope, But the group keeps saying, “Yo—there’s still hope.” [Final Chorus] You better lose yourself in the group, in the moment, You own it—your thoughts slip, better try not to show it. You only get one shot—don’t let the dread take hold, This journey ain’t pretty, but it’s brave and bold. The geese still scream like they’re running the dorm, But he squares up anyway—this healing is the norm. And every tough day leaves his brain reborn… But right now, man? Yeah—he’s torn.
