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Thanksgiving by George Winston

de George Winston

So hypocritical of you to speak of how enslavement is wrong
Yet you won't allow her to make her choices

Trembling through the earth not move
Her hand not still as night
Body becomes a battlefield
Only she can know what's right. Whats right for her

Self righteous mind
Tradition
Perfect world
Keep it to your fucking self

Those so hungry for control
Can crave this and nothing more

As they pick apart our lives
They plan what's next in store

I sever each string
I stive toward freedom encompassing all of me

It's not a question of the choice thats made
It's the right to choose

Your morality
Your superiority
Your blatant control of citizenry
Free to decide

A tear may fall caused not from self
She understands her voice
The pain is caused from day to day
Being told she has no choice

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