The Bastille

You and I, we lived in Purgatory
It is the truth
I will continue to do what I have
To, because there is no other way
To earn back my wings
I don't mind coming here
Every once in a while, to
Show you what I've done
But I'd like to have some fun

It would be nice to not
Have to pay the price, for
A sentence never issued
Without a trial
A simple denial, of the
Ones who took it all
But I can't bend my path
To look past those without
Those in need; what did
We ever do, to you

And so I stick around
Making use of what I have
To bang my heart against
Their walls: so tall; so deep
I am a street artist, and this
Whole work is my tag
It's sprayed against the
Walls, dividing us all

You can come over to my
Place, once I have one
Just a humble little home
Somewhere in the woods
I'll put some tea on the stove
And I'll bake a little loaf
It won't be much I'm afraid
But it'll be ours, and that
Will make us happy

That will make us content
It doesn't take much
Just a little fairness
A way to make ends meet
Without selling our souls
By the ways we know ourselves
By the ways that we decide
We shouldn't have to beg
But consider this my plea
Help us out, we're
Starving, to be free

Thank you for coming with me
Thank you for participating
The journey's not over
In fact it's just begun
To turn over a new leaf
And wrap up every song
Where everyone belongs

I hope to one day see you there
Once we've figured out what to
Do; once we come together
In a unified cause

Same as it ever was