Living in a Box

I’ve been trying to figure out, as I sit and watch a squirrel dangle from the branch of a tree

What’s it like to feel free?

Maybe freedom feels like snorting lines and lines of cocaine

But now I feel like Stephen King writing Cujo, I can’t remember, where’s my brain?

Maybe freedom feels like being between two ferns with Zach Galifinakis

Nothing rhymes with Galifinakis so I’ll just say it again I wanna be Zach Galifinakis

They said television would melt our brains

But I think my father’s unhealed trauma is to blame

There’s a song called “Living in a Box” by a band called “Living in a Box”

Look it up, it’s real, now don’t you wish you were that unorthodox?

I’d rather be called ugly than boring

And speak my mind when the shame inside is roaring

Walking down the street feels different for all

A pothole that only trips someone up causes me to stumble and fall

Another walks by me without glancing down

Some of us are fucked up; we may never find a way out of this small town

One’s self is a prison to some but can be a refuge to all

The cursed just can’t help but clutch onto that chain and ball

We’re passing life by in Plato’s cave

Content to believe in shadows until we’re in the grave

Maybe it’s the lucky ones that make it out alive

The rest of us were meant to just try and survive

So what’s it like to feel free?

I’m diabetic and just chugged 3 beers; its standing on the edge of a cliff with my fly down to pee