the world is shallow in my mind, and we all think that our life is fine until the very day that we die, and I know I can't be saved, if I try to be more than divine I know I'll be locked up in God's cage
we all want freedom...
choose the battles in my head, walk with me and I'll play dead, you can wear a mask with me I don't need my eyes to see, you can choose to live in hell, I withhold my soul to sell I decide what I can be, isn't that a part of being free?
another day, another crime, of the soul in which they harm in time allowing routine, phony by design, and I know it's all the same when they can't form thoughts in their own minds, a product of the foolish social stage
we all want freedom...
choose the battles in my head, walk with me and I'll play dead, you can wear a mask with me I don't need my eyes to see, you can choose to live in hell, I withhold my soul to sell I decide what I can be, isn't that a part of being free?