Copy and Paste, Beige Rooms, and Cars

Perhaps, in reality, I am not trapped, anywhere
but as I am, I feel like I'm caged
I think maybe I was raised in a way
That I was convinced solitude is really fair
but I live patiently, searching for a day
when my brain finally senses that I'm me
and that I was not fit to be locked away
Perhaps I am Blind and my wings
they will make it so much easier to see
then my eyes will be open on the world wide
because I will fly, and I'll be so, so high....
Am I being crushed by stones now?
Or was that when I was younger?
Was I the witch then, or was I brought into it?
Will all of this go away?
I live for every single day, in every way
but am I living it wrong now? How?
I'm afraid to say anything to them and it drives me insane
I'm afraid of their touch, but I need someone to touch....
Why must everyone be so angry when I'm not there way?
Why do they insist I ride, if I want to walk today?
Is that a crime now? Am I supposed to bow?

I don't think I get it you know,
And I know I've sunken low,
but I'm really all the more,
for every day on shore,
I'd really like to leave,
But leaving is such a heave,
and a push I can't endure,
but distance is such a lure,
Will you remember me?

I have to tell you I love you, because if I'm e'er gone,
I want you to follow, I'll wait just at the dawn,
because the east is beautiful,
and They'll never think to go there