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F(r)eedom
ratmando
Moss Beach, CA Posts: 344
Freedom is a misnomer, it seems to be only structured at best,
Cages are bigger, and the air is bigger, but we’re just caged, like the rest
The activities are far more covert, and the undercover is deeper than that.
The smiles are so much bigger when the cage keepers hold the keys back.
The names are crossed out but the punishment's the same again,
You can’t do what you want, or think how you think again.
The only real freedom is the moment you take your first or last breath.
The only real freedom is the moment you take that, your last breath.
There are glimpses of self possession riding on the waves, or high above
Flying out the clouds on hanging on the kites, or in the trails, or in the sighs of laughter
But fleeting moments, fleeting moments
There are moments when you can see it, but you can’t feel it, can you? Not really.
You can try to touch liberty, you can try to see what freedom means, not knowing, really.
No one knows for real, not really. But I know jail keepers when I see them,
they’ll try to be well mannered, and they’ll try to be well statured
They’ll try to waltz with you into their prison walls.
Freedom’s not part of this world, it seems to be structured at best
Those who wish to speak their minds must pay the prices to the rest.
Presumed protectors of our rights are stabbers with pens in the night and
The blood runs deeper when they cage keepers try to push away the plans and
The names crossed out from freedom front sighing history at best.
No one can say how they feel, or how they think again, again.
None of the freedoms that we’re supposed to have exist for you and me.
None of the freedoms we’re supposed to live ever exist for you or for me.
You could imagine there’s some place where anyone can breathe and scream
You can imagine there’s some places where we can breathe or scream
You can’t imagine there’s a place where you can bleed and scream in freedom,
In freedom the only place free is in birth, death or in dreams.
Then there are moments when you can see it, but you can’t feel it.. not really.
Can’t touch it, maybe moments, in micro minutes, and moments, not really.
You can try to touch the liberty you can try to see what freedom means ,not knowing, not really.
No one knows for real, not really. But I know jail keepers when I see them,
they’ll try to be well mannered, and they’ll try to be well statured
They’ll try to waltz with you into their prison walls.
Fly with me and ride the waves and fly with me and ride a wave and fly and ride. and fly...
--cbj
(from ratmando album sir cull of influenz is)
Cages are bigger, and the air is bigger, but we’re just caged, like the rest
The activities are far more covert, and the undercover is deeper than that.
The smiles are so much bigger when the cage keepers hold the keys back.
The names are crossed out but the punishment's the same again,
You can’t do what you want, or think how you think again.
The only real freedom is the moment you take your first or last breath.
The only real freedom is the moment you take that, your last breath.
There are glimpses of self possession riding on the waves, or high above
Flying out the clouds on hanging on the kites, or in the trails, or in the sighs of laughter
But fleeting moments, fleeting moments
There are moments when you can see it, but you can’t feel it, can you? Not really.
You can try to touch liberty, you can try to see what freedom means, not knowing, really.
No one knows for real, not really. But I know jail keepers when I see them,
they’ll try to be well mannered, and they’ll try to be well statured
They’ll try to waltz with you into their prison walls.
Freedom’s not part of this world, it seems to be structured at best
Those who wish to speak their minds must pay the prices to the rest.
Presumed protectors of our rights are stabbers with pens in the night and
The blood runs deeper when they cage keepers try to push away the plans and
The names crossed out from freedom front sighing history at best.
No one can say how they feel, or how they think again, again.
None of the freedoms that we’re supposed to have exist for you and me.
None of the freedoms we’re supposed to live ever exist for you or for me.
You could imagine there’s some place where anyone can breathe and scream
You can imagine there’s some places where we can breathe or scream
You can’t imagine there’s a place where you can bleed and scream in freedom,
In freedom the only place free is in birth, death or in dreams.
Then there are moments when you can see it, but you can’t feel it.. not really.
Can’t touch it, maybe moments, in micro minutes, and moments, not really.
You can try to touch the liberty you can try to see what freedom means ,not knowing, not really.
No one knows for real, not really. But I know jail keepers when I see them,
they’ll try to be well mannered, and they’ll try to be well statured
They’ll try to waltz with you into their prison walls.
Fly with me and ride the waves and fly with me and ride a wave and fly and ride. and fly...
--cbj
(from ratmando album sir cull of influenz is)
When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest.
Henry David Thoreau
Henry David Thoreau
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