We are free ever since we are born,
Living lives on our own accord,
Always being free to speak,
Always exercising free to choose.
But I sit back and wonder today,
What is freedom really?
Not being possessed by someone,
Or feeling free at heart?
Cause I remember flying, up high in the sky
With you holding my hand, staying right by my side
That I have felt so free within my heart,
Like there’s no happiness better on the ecstasy chart.
Today I breathe some two continents apart,
And free I should be, by all means thus far.
Yet I am as chained as one could be,
Trapped in the guilt of my own careless deeds.
Now I know we are all physically free,
But how does one gain freedom over the mighty will?
Over capricious thoughts and the scarlet sins,
His sense of loss and those clipped wings?
He will never fly again and yet here we are,
Basking in the glory of our freedom.