There's a bird caught in a cage somewhere
and she sings the sweetest song.
A natural beautiful sound;
the Man tells her she's singing it wrong.

She's singing, it's sinning;
bird, stop. She's singing,
he's spinning, then stop...
and a crack...
his mind snaps in his hands.
Some will never understand
the strength in nature's one (wo)man band.

I see tension in the air,
red and green clouds everywhere.
The same old, tried-and-worn affair.
I walk. I can't afford to care.

I'll see what I can make
out of the leftovers I have.
Although, it's never too long
until the milk turns bad,

until a love turns sour
in an online second;
since, an online minute
wastes a real-life hour.

But in a snap-shot moment,
I can find life for weeks
on my stash of sugar truths,
until I forget to eat;

forget to breathe;
'til I don't even need to sleep
because the lovehearts on my photos
sing such soft melodies.

And despite the fact
that often I can't sit at ease,
somehow this perfect madness
always tastes so bittersweet.