Freedom is a drug,
one last drop of a final horizon,
arsenic on the skin, in your eyes, down your throat.

Its poisonous,
deadly in its life giving.
It gives a world to live in,
a peaceful anarchy,
a day with sunlight.

But it is a drug,
it's an addiction,
as a race, an existence,
we are addicted.

We can't stop,
we'll run into the sun until we burn.
We will all die, crying with joy,
fighting our entire lives,
tied down by our longing for freedom.

And for now
Must we suffer
Another night?
Never so far have I
Denied that I am glad I made a choice,
Although I still think of you every day

We were hurricanes
Engraved in desert sand
Begging to be
Brought home.

Naked, he searches for a soul,
hunting, hiding, fighting.
We are all traders,
angels in a devil's body,
fighting, falling, coming back up.

I flippant,free,
vanilla cream on  your Sunday coffee,
the last memory of a pleasant dreams.