What freedom, what choice? Twelve years old with a gun in my hand, checking my options, I got none. Blood soaked gardens this is my land, all I want is peace god d***. Ten years old locked inside a room, it's spring time but there�s nothing to bloom, I got everything I want inside this cage, still I'm overcome by fear and rage. It's sad, sad, sad but our worlds are different, and I get mad, mad, mad cause our worlds are different. First time I spoke I was crying for help, first time I walked I was running away. I buried my dad with my own two hands now I curse my dad for his dead hands. So different but we're all the same, so innocent but we're covered in shame. They destroy our lives but we sing as one...