I want to be free...

From everything
That holds me back
Free from the confidence
I too often lack
Free from the guilt
Of things I have said
Free from the secrets
That I have kept

Free from the thoughts
That I'm not enough
That share the same space
Of why, just because
Free from the lack
Of forgiveness
For my fellow man
In whom I think less

Free to be happy
With who I am
Free from the thoughts
Of you know you can't
Free from the lies
That my mind often spreads
All the negative vibes
That fill my head

Free from the worry
Of what others might say
When I first awake
Not to dread another day
Free from the bad
Decisions I've made
Free to find love
And have them feel the same

I need to be free...

I am just a simple man
In these United States
Not quite clear how many years
But nothing much has changed

The same with my father
And his father before him
All because they base it all
On the color of my skin

Where judgement weighs out heavy
Underneath the thumb
Of the government whose plan it is
To rule this plantation

They talk a big game of freedom
For the likes of simple me
But to this day, it's been the same game
Of mental slavery

When you don't pay attention
To "The Man's" sleight of hand
This much is true, he'll rule over you
Every chance he can

Does his best behind his back
Out of sight, out of mind
He finds that he gets ahead
Continually pushing rewind

Never aware, the character
Of the man I am within
All they ever seem to care
Is the color of my skin

Quick here with a promise
They seem to never keep
Far from being honest
With this mental slavery

I struggle with the living
Give out about time to get
I know there's something missing
I've narrowed it down to this

Upended world of reasoning
Where I keep seasoning the why
In this constant spin of struggling
I barely try to just get by

It behooves a man perfection
In the middle of a yawn
Somewhere deep there is a lesson
In this mix of right and wrong

Is this the end of the beginning
Or beginning of the end
As I barely try to just get by
In this constant spin of struggling

The only time I find to exercise
Is when I'm in mid-shrug
I also find I'm afraid of heights
So I don't try to climb that much

I can sign the dotted line
I'm not that tight with do or die
In this constant spin of struggling
I barely try to just get by

Cemeteries can be scary  
Passing by whistling a tune
With the shifting of the shadows
Below the glow of a blood moon

Tombstones whisper their owners names
While trees creak in the winter breeze
As both my mind and my eyes
Play ghastly tricks on me

The sound I fear, I hope I hear
Is that of a lone Owl
And not a hootenanny
Of Ghostly Spirits on the prowl

It's hard to keep these knocking knees
From giving out in protest
As my racing heart skips a beat
Imagining what will come next

As I pass by this graveyard
Whistling the driest of tunes
Cemeteries can be scary
Below the glow of a blood moon

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present 'The Snuggie'
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

If you'd care to know how I grew up
It was in the shadow of country folk
Days spent on the family farm
Young and dumb, loads of fun

Swimming in a catfish pond
Having my toes nibbled on
Days on end spent in a rash
Rolling round Bahia grass

Hours of play in summer hay
As through my youth I made my way
Flying high on a rope swing
Are some of my best memories

An entire summer with no shoes
What came next, I had no clue
Half of what I did meant certain death
That's how you roll when you're a kid

Living life down on the farm
Empty fields at night beneath the stars
That's the best way I can show
Growing up in the shadow of country folk

My daddy passed away today
Though he died a long time ago
Brought a monkey back from Afghanistan
That killed our once happy home

There was horror in his eyes
Which really was no surprise
I hated what that monkey did
Every time he took a bite

My mommy died the day
My daddy passed away
Left an emptiness in all us kids
That will never fade away

Have to wonder what was going on
Inside my daddy's head
What that monkey took away
And what the war behind him left

Of this once a happy home
It's hard to understand
The day my daddy went to war
And brought a monkey back from Afghanistan