What We Can Do

The strings of the net are binding,
The strings of the guitar are freeing,
That seems rather odd.
But who am I to say?

The strings of the guitar are freeing,
It is binding in a way,
But who am I to say?
What if all things are this way?

It is binding, in a way,
You will be imprisoned here forever.
What if all things are this way?
But in certain ways, one can be freed.

You will be imprisoned here forever,
The strings of the net are binding,
But in certain ways, one can be freed.
That seems rather odd.