Interlude: Towering Liberty

I take a step
This lived-in body flushed from victory
Soft like morning sheets
Hard like asphalt streets
Towering liberty, I stand, torch in hand
Ready to burn this mother fucker down
I’m too good for sorry
Too wise for false modesty
If age is humility, and experience, ability
Then imagine the agility with which I walk
You thought the gate was broken?
Don’t worry, baby
Mamma left it open