a bird in a cage
what is our fear of being deceased?
as time tocs to tick
i live in the crease
whether straw stick or brick
sinner or saint
the one thing you are
becomes the one thing you ain’t
so i spoke my god honest truth
sickly. sour. unsure what to do
and, yeah, after years of feeling unseen
i’ve thought about it, if you know what i mean
confinement saved me, in a sense
but they took my autonomy and cast it over the fence
they stripped me naked, controlled what i ate
they didn’t even trust me with a real fucking plate
bulletproof windows, no arms around
fifteen foot pickets, no giants in town
popping their pills to feel alright
shh! maybe she’ll sleep soundly tonight
and after being laid into satans nest
you think id behave my very best
but i kicked and screamed day after day
because i may not walk away
a bird in a cage will flap its wings
and i’m not sure of many things
but take the freedom from the free
and tell me, please, what do you see?
instead of healthy, today i find
that i’m still tortured by my mind
now i ask you this, and dont phone the police
but is a body alive better than a soul at peace
