Children of God, those with the dreamy heads
The ones born to live but forced to learn,
About the rules to follow, the things to earn,
About the life you'll have for a penny you'll burn.
Blank slates born in dirt,
as our fathers' ink leaked
And covered mothers' debts,
It's a secret they had to keep.
One day you'll take my knife,
And you'll shiver but i'll cry
That you are now free to go
Run free my son and fly
Above the respected and the feared,
Above the lonely and the bleak,
I had your crown in my fist then i broke it in half.
And put it on your head, to be more just perhaps.
