i've tasted freedom on my lips today
and it tasted like mint, felt like -
like glitter on my cigarette and purple straps,
and when it left in a strange car,
filled with stranger people, i was left
with but a beer in my hand
and echoes of a long gone laugh;
and i thought, this is how i wanna live,
this is how i wanna die,
with mint on my lips and
not bothered that i was left alone,
all glittery and bleary eyed
after Freedom recited a song
just for me, with passion in her throat
that was not meant for me,
but sure sounded like it was,
sure sounded like dancing girls in gay bars;
now i'm not bothered by drunken men,
asking for a cigarette
for i have none left in my pockets,
only a minty taste of freedom on my lips...
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