The cagers drive in their cages in a frenzy to earn their wages,

boxed in, they cannot see, the guy riding freedom, that guy is me,

I ride my freedom every day, 2-stroke, thin-bloke, dressed in black, hunched back,

fueled by caffeine navigating my steel machine, when I ride I keep it clean,

you don’t see me, you do not care, occasionally you give a scare,

you swerve left, you swerve right, leave little space, it’s getting tight,

no respect for my means of travel, the way you treat me I’ll be kissing gravel,

I watch you in your cage, every day, it’s just you trapped in there, all the way,

it’s sad to see so many cages passing by, with just one head, I ask myself why,

is there a better way to get to work, without driving your cage like a jerk,

respect my freedom, it’s small, has two wheels, let me tell you how it feels,

I turn the key and the freedom starts, push in the choke and give it a blast,

it’s quick and quiet for the first stage, then I join the others in their cages,

first there’s wind in my hair, I’ll take my time getting there,

I experience freedom along the beach, deep breath, the ocean is within reach,

I smell bread baking, coffee brewing, breakfast cooking and..

your exhaust, blowing a great big cloud of black crap in my face,

I’m at the lights in front of you, I do not like being in a queue,

next time you are in your cage, driving in an epic rage,

think about the one who’s free, riding along peacefully.

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