Free Man

All these lights arrayed in a foreign way
as I’m trippin’ down corridors, callin’ Wade
to come lift me from boring floors, sobbing in pain
from the fact that he’s here no more, I can’t relay
the same jokes between us in the way we’d relate
in the days before, ‘cause the world’s in the way
like a carnivore eatin’ steak off a plate,
too domesticated for the games we’d play,
rockin’ the boat just to see how it shakes,
or stompin’ the gas while removing the brakes,
or hoppin’ on trains to a place we’d escape
and thrashing our throats to awaken a wake
with a scream and a shout that they can’t even take,
the wild in our hearts always searching for prey,
but they’re hiding in holes like the dead in a grave,
and we’re praying they live up to words that they’d say
’cause the life in their eyes has just faded away
to the brink of oblivion, caught in a cage,
so drink what we’re livin’ in, walkin’ on lakes
with spirits unbroken by chains that we’d break
and eyes wide open to see past the gray
weather clouding like thunderstorms, pummeling rain
with cracks of lightning turning trees into flakes —
but I might be sightseeing beyond pearly gates
to extract what’s likely too high for the flame,
’cause the way we smolder is one and the same,
growing bolder and fighting like a lion untamed,
and I told ya I’d never stop defending your name
even if the world thinks screws are loose in my brain,
’cause a brotherhood built on the truth shall remain,
but liars and thieves shall all be ashamed
as they shake like leaves blowing down windy lanes,
’cause the truth to a psychopath sounds insane,
but I know and believe I’ll see you again —
these scars I carry will all elevate
into trophies of triumph from conquering bane,
the fires grown hotter from all of the hate,
and lyres are caught up in all of the praise
whether struck or sung willingly, all are arraigned
to the sound of their crimes for which they must pay,
at the drop of a dime all the parts are arranged
into pieces of paper and parcels made plain,
’cause the sequel is better than what already came,
the secret is equal to stars that stain
the blackest of night with the brightest of grain,
seeds in the sky planting promise of gain,
but they fade into dawn as time fades into age,
and the stage for my song is the place where I rage
against hell and its demons with all of my mane,
roaring a cry that makes jackasses bray
and shudder and seize as they run to their caves,
’cause cowards can’t stand in the heart of the brave,
so I wave goodbye to the darkness and change
the direction I’m headed and hop on a plane
to fly far above all the dead and the slain
that are strewn in the streets where the shots ricocheted
from the violent and greedy and prideful and vain,
and I look to the Lord who keeps brothers at bay
to send Michael to make me a free man today.