Confined

Confine me to the freedom of my mind to keep me occupied
Let me dream a dream where I redesign the mountainside
I aint seen a thing yet, what's ya secret
Cause I see it on ya face yeah ya full of regret
Let me be the one to tell ya for the thousandth time
No more applications for continuations, they all got denied
If only you would not have lied, you wouldn't be surrounded by
Excuses for your alibis 'bout where you took the bad advice
It sounded nice how demand met supply and then they found a price
Who knew that you would have to be the sacrifice
They dimmed ya lights, and pinned ya right against a wall
And took a slice a life that isn't small, it wasn't nice
They let you fall back to a crawl, so now who's running?
Since you gotcha license for the hunting
Of goodwill, like he don't know you're coming
He hear ya groan and grunting
And you'll get blown to nothing
If ya don't do something

I should be allowed to mind jus how my mind been ground up by my axe to grind
With father time, passed down from some hands that's kind
Enough to speak in pantomime, but it gets tough to see the sign
That I can handle mine, and always keep that in mind
Ya never told me to need ya, but I know when to feed ya
I seen ya way up high but how low can I meet ya
Under the bridge that runs over under analyzed chances
For the outcome to be other than who stand on which branches
Of a tree of life that never leaves, one we read and write about
The one that money grow on where the enemies is hiding out
Within the property's amenities, but if we try to shout
We drowned out by our interdependency on doubt
The sum is zero in this game, cuz the hero still hasn't came
But if you want a good defense, then Bob Shapiro is the name
Mark Geragos, the same, but only if ya got the coin
To turn around the whole shabang, before it hit ya in the groin
From where ya came is where ya go,
To catch blame for a miracle
They set the truth up in a frame
Plainly exposing its fear of hope
And you might hope I hear the joke
About who sleep and who woke,
But with a hundred twenty degrees,
How can't ya see what ya don't

No matter the fact of the matter
The facts do not actually matter
If you find a clue that's in jeopardy
You got to ask for the answer
So what is the question, who is the question
How why where are the questions
But one final question, is
When will when be the question?