He's sitting there behind the bars that only he can see,
not made of steel we all could see but formed by poverty.
No money keeps him in the house that he can't even heat,
no money keeps him in the house no people he can meet.
He's sitting there locked in the jail that only he can feel,
no concrete walls no massive door but still the jail is real.
His marriage just deprives him from the things he likes to do,
his marriage just condemns him to a life that isn't true.
He's sitting there locked in the jail that all of us can feel,
no concrete walls no massive door but still the jail is real.
That is until you realise it's only in our heads,
and that the key of freedom always lies in our own hands.
