I know where this is. Long ago and for a short time, I lived there.
Oh the wounded and the lost and the abandoned and the forsaken and the missing and all those gone down into the long darkening death of addiction and insanity from which only a power greater than themselves could save them… and that power was not THE STATE.
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing — Dylan
What can I say? We had some nice ideals.