A father was held against his will In an artifice of his own design
He might live or exist within
If only he had not been jailed
With his child kin
He saw his son as flawless, glorious
The father's guilt could never transcend
Causing his son to be imprisoned
Due to the jailer's cause with the father
He had to attempt an escape
Refusing every other offer
He had already created an impenetrable maze
Only a brilliant scholar could fashion the labyrinth
He could find a way, he must find a way
To allow both to reach the sky
Creating wings that could lift
Imbued with the power of flight
The father gave wise counsel
Explaining the dangers
Of too high flight or too low
But his child believed he was free from limits
And crashed down below
The father could only sorrow
His child lost to death
Who'd taken his wings and rising
Upon the winds he'd surge
Never understood
Nor listen well
His son's joyous exaltation of freedom
Turned into a father's own funeral dirge
