Free-son

How free is freedom?

I mean, who ever said it were free anyways?

In a distant city built not too far away from man’s consciousness

He finds himself frozen in a cage made by himself for himself

Freedom is the new word for prison;

Liberal prison

Freedom is the dungeon you were never warned about

The merry go round you will never figure out

Every man thinks himself a bird

But what he doesn’t know

Is that though he denies being in chains

Life smiles from across the street

With folded arms, waiting for him to digest the truth

The truth that no man with breathe is free

For freedom is a myth, just as perfection

Life puts you in control

But sometimes too much self-control is no control at all

Freedom is the price

Freedom is its price