No. 4 The Escape

Twenty one guns on twenty one planes

As my four walls declare me insane

I need to get out of this brain

So I'm paying down my fight

There's protest carved into this floor

And the stairs creak with unrest

The doors are just walls and the windows are false

I'm prisoner not guest

I can't take anymore

Cacophony in my head

This pride and that lust-- I'm sure I've had enough--

I want something else instead

The days lengthening as the sky's turning green

Don't know which way I'm going

Swirling storm of faces I've worn

All the while never knowing

My compass clocks out my brain starts to shout

And the light it seems to stop glowing

Twenty one guns on twenty one planes

As my four walls declare me insane

I need to get out of this brain

So I'm paying down my fight

The artist paints open a door

And walks out into the open air

Images on the sidewalk dance through the breeze without any cares