Malachi

Does the Home Office have a heart?

If freedom means that I'm free 

Tell me why I feel like a slave. 

Just finished my sentence but I'm being detained 

Is it always gonna be like this?

Until I lay in my grave?

And even though I'm feeling all this pain 

I gotta laugh, and ponder the question 

Does the Home Office have a heart?

Because it seems like its broken 

Like one made out of glass 

I just want to be with my kids, teach them arts and crafts

I know they feel the same pain as I do that aches my heart. 

Does the system possess one or is it torn apart?

Its policies cold and sharp 

Piercing the hopes of those marked 

By its mark 

Does the Home Office feel 

Does it truly care?

For the lives it controls 

For the burdens they bear