People like to tell you
that what happens to you
happened long before
you were born
that some were born
to live in luxury
and others in filth
and in scorn
well maybe just maybe
there's a room for change
maybe nothing that's simple
or prearranged
maybe life is a promise
that should not be betrayed
maybe even the prisoners are free
a prisoner's dream
it came to me
a dark star shattered
on an empty sea
diamonds spun loose
and they rained on me
that's a prisoner's dream
I was busy wandering
on a open plane beaten and bruised
and handcuffed and chained
dogs howled in the distance
but they howled in vain
I was a prisoner
but I was free
and all the king's muscle men
they couldn't hurt me
I was much stronger
than they could ever be
so which is the truth?
the prison or the dream?
that's a
prisoner's question indeed
you can stain your brain
with the mark of Cain
howl like a madman
in the pouring rain
you can bow down to your
keepers
hide your head in shame
or you can walk through walls
you can walk through walls
you can walk through walls
you can walk through walls
a prisoner's dream
it came to me
a dark star shattered
on an empty sea
diamonds spun loose
and they rained on me
even a prisoner
can dream that he is free
he can close his eyes
and he can see
maybe he's not
who he'd like to be
but even a prisoner can dream
c 1999 Zen of Iniquity Publishing/
Jalapeno Cornbread (BMI)
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