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Freedom has been likened
To a bird, a plane, a song,
It has been once personified
As a road that’s very long.
Freedom has been likened
To people: from war, death, or insanity,
To others it is being absolved
From rules for eternity.
Freedom has been likened
To doing whatever you please,
The moment Morgan Freeman finds that box
Under the big oak tree.
Freedom can be political
Ceased oppression, locks, and chains,
A nation’s struggle to move away
From colonialism’s gains.
On a Sunday morning, I see my brother.
In the walls of a correctional centre
All dressed up in green,
And seeing his smiling face for me
Is a feeling oh so free.
When he is released
I will be there – hand outstretched and seeing
That freedom is not a place, a box, a road,
But lives in his entire being.
Freedom has been likened
To a bird, a plane, a song,
It has been once personified
As a road that’s very long.
Freedom has been likened
To people: from war, death, or insanity,
To others it is being absolved
From rules for eternity.
Freedom has been likened
To doing whatever you please,
The moment Morgan Freeman finds that box
Under the big oak tree.
Freedom can be political
Ceased oppression, locks, and chains,
A nation’s struggle to move away
From colonialism’s gains.
On a Sunday morning, I see my brother.
In the walls of a correctional centre
All dressed up in green,
And seeing his smiling face for me
Is a feeling oh so free.
When he is released
I will be there – hand outstretched and seeing
That freedom is not a place, a box, a road,
But lives in his entire being.
You were never there to tuck me into bed
No, you were never there at night when I was scared
Mama, where were you when I needed you most
Mama tell me why all alone I had to cope
The other kids at school, well they all had a mum
The other kids, the other kids all had someone
I never had a close friend, one to call my own
No matter what our pasts may say
What hurts, our pains endured,
And tears shed for those who
Walked away.
You and I, need not let ourselves
Be defined by those hurts from
Our pasts and no longer will it
Influence our time.
Oh how I can’t stand these nights alone
Wishing that i could just go home
Never thought this is where I’d be
Constantly dreaming of being free
A simple twist of turning key
A little click and the locks on me
I can’t say the way i feel
Surrounded by concrete and steel
I’ve crossed the line from mad to sane
A million times over and back again
No one hears my cries and desperate calls
They just echo off these dungeon walls
Should have known passing through the gate
That once inside I could not escape
Without you i dont think id find a way
To get through the struggles of everyday
When everything just seems so wrong
The thought of you keeps me strong
Whatever torture and heartache remains
Our love will break the chains.
The two men popped open the Tesla's doors, thump thomp, and stepped out into a blooming orchard. The air was a herbal tea. Honey bees bobbed between the peach pink flowers.
About Time Media acknowledges the traditional owners of the lands across Australia and particularly acknowledges the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin nation, traditional owners of the land on which About Time Media is based.
We acknowledge the continuing impacts of the criminal legal system on First Nations people, including disproportionate rates of incarceration and deaths in custody, which remain a national shame.
We pay deep respect to Elders past and present, and all families of those who have lost loved ones in prison.
© About Time Media Ltd.
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