American War
Bricks
White were the walls that encased my bodyWhite were the hands that locked me insideWhite was the color of every other stripeOf the flag that watched over our dreamsIf labels are limits, then those sirens are blaringBehind us as we fly on byScreaming, "Get back here you dirty sons of bitchesCan't you read that fucking sign?"White were the sheets upon which I slumberedWhite were the lights that awoke meWhite was the noise that echoed down the hallwayAnd silently rattled through my brainIf labels are limits, then we're crashing right through thatGlass ceiling overheadAnd the janitors keep the brooms and dustpans in the closetAnd smile wide-eyed towards the skySmile wide-eyed towards the sky
From Letras Mania