To be cut off at the boot strap is to have a dust bowl in the sink.
She’s washing up after avarice had a bit too much to drink.

Ceiling obsidian while the walls tell her to fly free.
Contradiction America all she wants is your dream.
Red is the color of the traffic sign that she obeyed.
White is the skin she served and blue is disillusionment’s way.
She is stricken made tired by a future expired after tasting the spoon.
it's hard to get out of bed. The cold gets into her head. Gotta leave the cocoon.

To be cut off of the road map is to have a long journey ahead.
Picture time in a traffic light, picture her face washed in red.

Hold her hand futilely as the wind's ripping up her picket fence.
When she tried to warn avarice he just showed her his bank statements.
Red is the fire burning underneath the bags of her eyes.
Blue is the calm of the storm and white are the hallowed lies
Her Great-Grandfather came with only hope to his name. Why is she not the same?
Feeling shrunken inside is it the head or the drive that catches her blame

To be…

Ooo and it doesn’t get easy, but you learn how to breathe and you find some good people to hang on.
Ooo I wana reach out my hand like a vine to the quicksand. Yeah we’ve got a pretty good plan.
Let's put the cart before the horse. We’ll reassess what things are worth
cause we ain’t got much to lose by doing things a new way. We ain't got much to gain by doing things the right way, the old way.

To be cut off at the boot strap is to be fenced-in to a change.
Wake up to a world transformed telling you "you're not to blame"