Metal rings placed
hands, legs, feet and waist.
How many times will I let this happen?
How many times can I let my family
Swore I'd never come back here.
Weren't my prayers clear, God?
I told you I didnt want to be back in this situation
the moment I saw
those berries and cherries.
Don't you listen?
I promised I'd change.
I promised I'd find new ways
I know you've got one more chance
Now I'm sitting in a cell with
three metal beds, a sink,
a desk, a toilet with
and it stinks like shit.
I can't handle it.
Theres filth everywere and
nothing to clean it with.
These first forty eight hours I've spent
in disbelief, on my
hands and knees
for release but I
can't let a single tear fall or they'll know I'm weak.
just bottle it up and line up for count.
Ignoring the fact that I have enough tears to end a drought.
I've become a number in the system.
They've broken and beaten
my personality but at least when
I emerge from this place,
back to reality or some sort of normality,
I'll feel the sun on my face.
Some will only see six new walls;
their only ticket to freedom a toe-tag,
death's cold embrace.