invitation to freedom
I want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free i want to be free
The more I think about it, the more resolute i think i am. Somewhere at the back of my head, the bags are already packed. Just another shove and I'm ready to go, walk out of here; walk out of it; take my life back and my sanity along with it. I don't think I can play this game any more, I'm not tired, I'm angry, frustrated, caged; pissed off to bits for having to repeat this stupid, ridiculous joke of a cycle over and over again. I don't want to spend any more years than I have watching you make a complete and utter fool out of yourself, you're not a clown, you don't have to do this, and it's not funny. People wonder why, and tell me i should be calm... they're not the ones who have to have this tape on play almost every other night, for years and years, but when they do, maybe they'll be the ones swallowing their words. I don't want to be angry anymore, I don't want to have to suppress the urge to yell, swear at you, slap the shit out of you or knock you out senseless. You think it's nothing, it weighs nuts to you. you don't know when to stop. You'll never learn. You think I'm joking with you when I'm sarcastic, I'm not, I'm mocking you, chiding you, dropping you enough hints. Its harder to be tactful, and soon I will loose this tact, I don't want to see that happen, neither will you, but you don't understand, you never will. You don't see, nor do you understand the weight and severity of this, when I leave you will. It's not a threat though, it's a choice I have to make, and the only way to call a truce in this; that I be in a place whereby I don't need to stand this.
I don't know if I will regret this if it should happen... the worst part of it I see it will. I have given you too many chances. There's a limit to everything you see, a limit to what a person can take. I don't want to hate you, I don't. But do you know what you're doing and the corners you are driving me to? I want to give you as much respect in public and around family, but you're making it so hard, too damned hard. Do you think that I don't make sense because of my age and the role that I'm born into or do you just not care about what i say? It should not fall on deaf ears, it should fucking mean something to you, after all that's happened, after what you've put me through, after hell and all these scars.
The more it happens the more I find that there is no other way around it. I need to be free; I need to live, while there are still some fucking dreams left in these hands.
Don't look back; I don't want to look back.
The more I think about it, the more resolute i think i am. Somewhere at the back of my head, the bags are already packed. Just another shove and I'm ready to go, walk out of here; walk out of it; take my life back and my sanity along with it. I don't think I can play this game any more, I'm not tired, I'm angry, frustrated, caged; pissed off to bits for having to repeat this stupid, ridiculous joke of a cycle over and over again. I don't want to spend any more years than I have watching you make a complete and utter fool out of yourself, you're not a clown, you don't have to do this, and it's not funny. People wonder why, and tell me i should be calm... they're not the ones who have to have this tape on play almost every other night, for years and years, but when they do, maybe they'll be the ones swallowing their words. I don't want to be angry anymore, I don't want to have to suppress the urge to yell, swear at you, slap the shit out of you or knock you out senseless. You think it's nothing, it weighs nuts to you. you don't know when to stop. You'll never learn. You think I'm joking with you when I'm sarcastic, I'm not, I'm mocking you, chiding you, dropping you enough hints. Its harder to be tactful, and soon I will loose this tact, I don't want to see that happen, neither will you, but you don't understand, you never will. You don't see, nor do you understand the weight and severity of this, when I leave you will. It's not a threat though, it's a choice I have to make, and the only way to call a truce in this; that I be in a place whereby I don't need to stand this.
I don't know if I will regret this if it should happen... the worst part of it I see it will. I have given you too many chances. There's a limit to everything you see, a limit to what a person can take. I don't want to hate you, I don't. But do you know what you're doing and the corners you are driving me to? I want to give you as much respect in public and around family, but you're making it so hard, too damned hard. Do you think that I don't make sense because of my age and the role that I'm born into or do you just not care about what i say? It should not fall on deaf ears, it should fucking mean something to you, after all that's happened, after what you've put me through, after hell and all these scars.
The more it happens the more I find that there is no other way around it. I need to be free; I need to live, while there are still some fucking dreams left in these hands.
Don't look back; I don't want to look back.