Freedom is a careful clown
Who takes his shoes upstairs
And polishes his toenails
With a brush of horsy hairs

Freedom's nose is festive
And his smile is gaudy paint
His buttons are a child's delight
Indubitably quaint

Freedom runs away
When all his friends are throwing pies
And wonders why the birdies
Grow much bigger than the flies

When Freedom sleeps he doesn't dream
Of persimmons or hoops
Nor of the bearded ladyboy
Who gurgles when s/he stoops

His head becomes a thousand feathers
In a pillowcase
And if he washed the night before
He'll wake without a face