we are the broken branches that used to bear the fruit,
of endless toil and unwavering pursuit.
torn from the soil and taught to entertain,
and sold for so much less than the price of our disdain.
as we were kept from knowing what these walls contain,
you couldn't keep from showing your well rehearsed foreplay,
torn from the soil and given melted wings,
you couldn't keep from showing the truth a lie can bring.
am i to blame?
these walls close in stealing air from all within.
sold back, so what? you took your cut,
and this is all that matters.
we are the broken branches that used to bear the fruit,
of simpler times when there weren't contracts out on our youth,
torn from that soil and taught to sign our name,
force fed by invitation, anticipating fame.
who am i to complain?
these walls close in stealing air from all within.
sold back, so what? you took your cut,
and this is all that matters.
these walls close in.