Town adorned in fairy lights.
Pity about all the villainy and spite.
This is a free roam prison.
Escape is the order of business, and i’m selling.
Anyone want to join, then get to rebelling.
Grey skies always loom large.
Rain biting as it strips the high rise.
Trapped in this oblivion.
Escape is the order of business, and i’m selling.
Anyone want to join, then get to rebelling.
Uniformity has turned to taunt.
Eyes cannot see past the violent.
Locked out of inclusion.
Escape is the order of business, and i’m selling.
Anyone want to join, then get to rebelling.
Then one night we finally break free.
The tunnel is long and taken us away.
We crawl out and taste real air.
So many of us simply just stare.
Overwhelmed and relieved, its something new.
Then come our captors because they always knew.
Escape was the order of business, but its been sold.
Anyone want to join, too late the chance has gone cold.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 