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.