When there’s no one to question where you’ve been all day
Why the windows are closed, why you’re covered in hay
When no one demands why you always smell like rum
Where the stains on your new clothes came from
That’s freedom…
Oh, that’s freedom
​
When there’s no one to wait up for you all night long
Because they needed your warmth and shoulder to cry on
When there’s no one to rouse when you’re turning in bed
No one to pry and pry at the thoughts in your head
That’s freedom…
Oh, that’s freedom
​
When there’s no one to worry about feeding that week
To get up and follow you, when you just have to leave
When there’s no one to hold you and comb out your mane
And make you relive your day over and over again
That’s freedom…
Oh, isn’t that freedom?
​
When there’s no one to cry for when it gets too much
When there’s no one to quiet you with a single touch
When there’s no one to kiss when you disembark
When you’ve no one to think of when you’re bleeding in the dark…
That’s freedom…
Well, I don’t want freedom…