Where Freedom Finds the Fire

We walk in the cold, eyes frozen by hate Trusting our souls to our puppeteers' fate And thinking that we are by far the best players In a scene where the actors are also the slayers And nothing is real until our string is cut And we want to break loose from the puppeteer but The strings are still new, the master's hand sure We may be worse off than we were before! We need to find something much stronger than strings That will loose us yet bind us and give us our wings. We must open our minds, our hearts and our eyes And try some respect and some courage for size. Then what seems like a world and forever apart Is only as far as our guts from our hearts It's found in the wind that draws dreams ever higher And blows us to where freedom finds the fire.