Tiles march above our heads
Across the ceiling they make a grid
Closing us in
Like a lid
On a jar
If we tore them away
We could see the sky
So blue and open
A prarie of clouds
We could fly
A clock ticks away our time
Whispering
Hurry
Hurry
He has three hands
We only two
Sometimes life isn't fair
But what can we do?
If we shattered his face
Crack,crash,
Free from chains
we would run
in the woods
We're lost
But we'll be
Fine
'Cause we're free
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