Now, when times are changing
Faster than your skin is aging
And you’re gripping the aging hourglass
Yet you’re still worried about my a**
You hold onto these expired views
Of the constantly evolving social news
I have just one question for you
When did old and wise become an excuse
To judge me before slipping on my shoes?

I have so much more living to do
Before you pen me in with your social cues
Stuck in the kitchen in front of the stove
Cooking for the man who I don’t really love
While I stare out at the manicured lawn
Picturing all of the dreams that I had to discard
SO that you would finally be proud of me
Even if I had to give up my liberty
Grandma, does this make you happy?
Shackled by an apron, suppressed so badly
Imprisoned by the life that you thoroughly forced
But, you know what makes it so much worse?
Caging me would quench your thirst.

So before you get the chance to clip my wings
And sell me out for some apron strings
Im going to fly away, away from you
So I can taste what freedom can do
For my mind, that’s not yet trapped
For my pen, that’s not yet capped
For me road, which isn’t yet mapped
And for my happiness, waiting to be tapped