As the birds first cry
Woe how painful ants die
Like where can a soul fly
God has mine no tie
Missing my Carolina sky
So I sit question why
They laugh as I write
I press my pen with much might
Cutting free no blade nor knife
Preaching peace and love with life
Free as a old man’s last breath
Thinking as a young man f*** death
Stealing joy don’t claim thief
I write neither for fame nor wealth
Just hope you wear a belt
Free as the summer wind
Trying to remember the day I was ten
Never worried about how the time I spend
You know we all just want to win
Free from pressure no thoughts of sin
Crumble crumble like tin
Im already free just say when