The bonds are now broken and I can walk in any direction I choose,
My shoes now belong to my feet and my feet to me.
And as I walk down these cherished halls for the last time
I cannot help but wonder.
I am free. I am free. I am free.

The books I carry or used to carry are now gone,
Except that one in which forgotten memories are ungrudgingly stored.
I do not look back, and I see behind me
Faces of forced friendship,
And men asking questions, and men asking questions,
And receiving no answers.
Less than a week now, and has been ever, and will always never be.
As I walk out the door, I cannot help but wonder:
Am I free? Am I free? Am I free?

Now I can laugh at you all, but first I must laugh at myself,
And ask fire and water to dance, would that we were so easy.
Someday it will all be different, and Forever is my emerald ring.
Perhaps not.
And why do I gaze when I know I do at
Pictures on the wall of this or that or her.
Yet as I sit in this broken room thinking these broken thoughts
With this broken mind,
I cannot help but wonder.
Am I free? Am I free?
I'm not free.