Amerika

 

 

My thoughts
are bound by the boundaries of your thought

Words,
I havenít uttered yet,
are altered by your doubt

Liberties, I once thought I enjoyed,
are tangled in the chain

Only within the artificial freedom you allow me am I free

Only within the confines of my prison cell
can I manoeuvre as I will

 

Who stabbed me in the back Ö
Iíll never know

I only heard them laugh as darkness fell

 

Will dawn ever return?

Will children play again?

Will emptiness forever fill the room?

 

As we convinced ourselves
we can defeat the essence of defeat
the gates of Hell reopened
and we woke up in DC

 

 

October 22, 2004