They watch the slow ritual
Killing what you have inside
They see a thing like hope
And arrange a time to arrange a price.

The strings I can't cut have been tied tight shut
And they're pulled to make my mouth move against truth
The air's turning thick with the lies, and for what?
A death after living for everyone but you.

These dreams won't fit in your cage.

These dreams won't fit in your cage.

And I've not lost, so long as these words are here on this page.