Burning Blood

She's bound without a cage for keeping,
tied without a single rope,
trapped breathless in the open air
between shining suffocating towers
and lights that shine on narrowing roads
that lead her everywhere
but to a way out.

Burning blood that aches for freedom
runs through her veins' constraint,
and all they say is she should smile
and stifle her complaint.

"You look so angry all the time."
"Why can't you be more positive?"
"Nobody likes it when you talk about these things."
"The world's bigger than your feelings."
"You really ought to smile more."
"You really can't change anything."
"Why do you make yourself miserable?"

Burning blood that aches for freedom
runs through her veins' constraint,
and all they say is she should smile
and stifle her complaint.

Rage against this world of glass
while towers pierce the open sky.
Grasping voices on the street
rip away her piece of mind.
The sharp-eyed old cashier
makes a face at her piercing,
and no one wants to let her be...

Burning blood that aches for freedom
runs through her veins' constraint,
and all they say is she should smile
and stifle her complaint.

She reaches home
and waits in a box
for another day to come.
It can't stay like this forever.
A better world is on the way,
she sings in hopeful songs
and finds in pretty dreams...

Burning blood that aches for freedom
runs through her veins' constraint,
and all they says is she should smile
and stifle her complaint.

(Photo credit: "'He Said He Would Come...'" from Guian Bolisay on Flickr)

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