In Jail

Nowhere to go
Tabs are kept on where I go and with whom
Freedom is now the American Dream
Nowhere to run
No money,No life
Suffocation, need air
Fresh air;Where is it?
I'll tell u where it doesn't exist
The feeling of being here but not having control over you
It's a high that I don't want to be feeling ever
I feel like a Jew in the holocaust
I'm just a dead body a puppet so to speak
They have the strings
It's wrapped tight around they're fingers
It's about to snap and when you think and hope it will
It just gets tighter
You start living through other people
Your friends' lives seem like your dream
The ability to breathe without the restrictions
Of hours and minutes
I'm getting there though the release of the puppeteer
I know for a fact that the tighter the strings the harder it snaps
And when it snaps it's going to be freedom and me
And the taste,As sinful and delicious that it is
I'm going to enjoy it till the

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