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American War
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1
White were the walls that encased my body
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White were the hands that locked me inside
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White was the color of every other stripe
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Of the flag that watched over our dreams
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If labels are limits, then those sirens are blaring
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Behind us as we fly on by
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Screaming, "Get back here you dirty sons of bitches
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Can't you read that fucking sign?"
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White were the sheets upon which I slumbered
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White were the lights that awoke me
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White was the noise that echoed down the hallway
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And silently rattled through my brain
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If labels are limits, then we're crashing right through that
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Glass ceiling overhead
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And the janitors keep the brooms and dustpans in the closet
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And smile wide-eyed towards the sky
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Smile wide-eyed towards the sky
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