I made us a home, From what was once a prison. So if you share my vision, Thank me, dear, for paradise. And in the hour of joy, Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, child. Or do I have to fix you? ‘Cuz once I do, you’ll freedom from the wrong side out. (TELL ME WHO I AM! DON’T PUT ME IN THE BOX! I’LL BE GOOD I’LL BE GOOD!) But a child’s what they made you. this aint right
