Y’know babe, sometimes
I feel like I got a story to tell,
but I was born with my lips sealed
and my hands tied and
my face behind a veil.
D’you ever feel that way sometimes?
Let me see your hands,
are they sliced up like mine?
Tied by the tender wrists to a zip line-
yeah the cord is long, it’s strong and it’s fine.
Do you see it there?
Slung up real nice and high
between two mute trees who are
beating out the branches
cutting through the sky for a sliver of sun
much like you and like I.