Freedom was born from two suffocating forces colliding at once: a society that constantly pressures you to grow up, conform, and become “acceptable,” and the COVID quarantine, which turned that pressure into literal confinement. It’s a song about losing space — physical, mental, and emotional — and fighting back against it.
 

The lyrics move between escape and collapse. Fantasy becomes a survival mechanism, a place where identity is fluid and freedom still exists, until reality breaks in with rules, expectations, and the demand to fit the norm. Childhood imagination gives way to decay, frustration, and rage, while the chorus stands firm as an act of rebellion: you can’t take my freedom.
 

The music video pushes the idea to its extreme. Abduction becomes a metaphor for control, the escape a desperate grasp for autonomy — and the realization that there is no way out turns freedom into an all‑or‑nothing choice. The ending is intentionally brutal: a final refusal to live without agency. Freedom isn’t comfortable, hopeful, or reassuring. It’s confrontational. It asks how much of ourselves we’re expected to give up to belong — and what happens when we refuse.