Oh the beauty

The beauty of the free

The wind brushing against my feet

as I flee

I flee to be free

Free to be

who I want to be

I live free

as I want to be

Free, Free, Free

Oh they ask

what does it mean to be free

Oh that's a wonderful question I answer

I turn and let them see what I mean

with the beauty standing before me

the weight of the world off of me

The air wishing by

through the clouds and birds.

Then It all starts to slip and fade

Oh it's a little too late

to late to go back and be free

I'm going back to the reality of the not so beautiful world of reality

Reality that things are not the same

I wake up and see

It really can't be

I ended up not being me

I want to be me

But why can I?

Because I woke up

and had to live another day

Not seeing the beauty

but the pain of the reality

of this sacrificed world that they would rather not be.