They found a little shred of innocence. I didn’t know I had left.
They made me watch while they committed the theft.
I was a naïve outlaw on life’s lumbering train.
Didn’t even know I was washing to the gutter in the rain.
But it was a prearranged wedding between the poet and the page,
a physical manifestation of my mind as the cage
I’d been pacing like a panther for days and days,
but now my tears water the roses that were once just red with rage.
So I must admit, I’m thankful for the blow to the head.
You can call me Kafka anytime and send me off to bed.
I see it’s sure to bring me wings, wings to take me higher.
I see it’s short to bring me wings, wings of fire!
Now I’m standing by the courthouse, thinking about the judge.
I’ve never even met him. I hope he doesn’t hold a grudge.
But the law is a heavy anchor when a courtship can’t budge.
But if all things are black-and-white, I’ll try to make them smudge.
If they were trying to change me, I’d call it a success.
I feel like they caught me in a state of undress.
But they’ll never see me naked, as long as I have skin,
they’ll never see me naked again.
But this is not the end. I’m just feeling this song.
I got a feeling it’s gonna go on and on.
Because I’m gonna sing it even if I’m in jail.
I’m gonna sing it. I’m gonna wail!