It's a Metaphor

Come November I'll be bruised False blames not a calling cue Down your hallway, too disguised Wave goodbye A test of all your kind intentions Sliding down the wooden boards Empty quilts when I've awoken Shattered glass is a metaphor You say you want your freedom But you still want your control Just say you want your freedom And I will fight for that March I'll be escaping grey Puzzles missing pieces gone astray Like a dollar to a gambling boy Shattered glass is a metaphor You say you want your freedom But you still want your control Just say you want your freedom And I will fight for that