freedom

we poor souls
who build these roads
are we digging graves
working away

the wind is here
the way is clear

living inspiration
the leaves are changing as are we
entrapped by
our own creation
is this so

we pay tolls
we are so controlled
do you wonder why
there are holes in the sky

the wind is here
the way is clear

greetings civilization
is a dark age hard to see
entranced by
entertainment
i say no
i say no

there is nothing wrong with you
there is nothing we need do
someone is searching
can they find
what is lacking
what is mind