Bone to Pick

Trapped

Trapped inside my body.
Trapped inside my time.
 I try to talk, but words collide.
 I want to fly, but I can hardly walk.

Backed into a corner.
Smacked to holy tatters.

 I grab for God, but he's out of reach,
 I ride the tide back to the beach.

 I pluck a horn from Satan's head,
 I sit in with The Grateful Dead.

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