I know why the caged bird swings. It's got no feathers; It has no wings. But its heart still wants to fly up high, among the clouds, among soft things. I know why the caged bird sings. Wrought iron bars can’t cage in dreams. A voice still shimmers with glints and gleams even if the songs are dirges and requiems. The swords have spoken... In the inside and the outside, I'm broken. In the mind the problems are pointy but outside they're larger and might destroy me. So, still here, I'll be swinging. My forlorn melody I'll be singing, my voice, it'll be ringing. And my soul will be stinging. Pity, party of one, I'll be bringing. For I think I'm trapped; My childhood's kidnapped. There's no way out of this... room of pendulums and pits... I'm restricted in this prison, I'm the abused, I'm the victim. If I'd only stop to look around Instead of weighing my own self down, I'd see eyes are all abound Waiting for me to see that the window is wide open And I'm already free.
