No matter how I try, I cannot change the way things are
I don’t like this scarf
The way things are
I am sick of you, your God, and this food
The way things are
Its hot out there and in here I’m suffocating, you force me to wear black wool every day and that’s the way things are
In my dreams I’m allowed to be free; in my dreams I escape these rules
The rules of society, pseudo-science, paranoia, and superstition
The true laws of physics scream at your broken thinking
I don’t like the way things are
In my sleep I see myself laughing, running untethered and facing the sun
The flowers aren’t real, they’re plastic but they are on my basket
I’m free!
My colors are purple, orange and gold
My wings are purple, orange and gold
Let’s be honest
The way things are…are because you can’t open your mind
You refuse to see the broken and bent parts — what the frick; you own them!
My oppression is so extreme that now I believe this is just the way things are
You’ve almost succeeded in controlling my soul
Almost
Today I awake with a glimmer of hope
A one percent dream that today will be different
I can feel my lungs exhale purple, orange, and gold