The Cost of Freedom
The cost of freedom has increased, the price went up.
It takes alot to be free, but the price is love.
And the PRIZE is love.
Not saying you have to sing; kumbaya around a fiery ring,
but voices and rainbow hands will raise high to the night sky
as we shake off shackles and chains
and they slide down
and wrap around
the original drum,
which beats and sings out song that'll never fall from the tongue.
It clicks shut, complete with lock and key.
And we are poor slaves joining hands with empty pockets
and shackled hearts.
The cost of freedom has increased,
which is why when we form our ring,
there's a low drum beating in the dark.
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