Escape Diaries

How do they control me when I put pillows on my ears?

How do they contort me if rut’s as mellow as my tears?

They’ve been conning everyone. They cut those who share.

They’ve put lighting in the bottle and smut on the ones who care.

How are my hands empty if I grab straws while crashing down?

How were thy lands plenty when some steer laws like lashing clowns?

We’ve been shy but twenty is enough to make it out.

We’ve swum by their heavies, one more day to plan the route.

One day more and no more drought.