"I can't, I have a girlfriend. I'm sorry."
But I pushed him against the brick wall
and I kissed him,
and he kissed me back.

We got our ears pierced together
that warm southern Fall night,
in the city of Mardi Gras beads
and mistakes.

"Let's pretend we just got married."
And I agreed, for the free drinks,
of course.
But I wanted so much more.

We packed up the rental car and drove
three hours to freedom,
ready to hit Bourbon with no expectations,
only free spirits.

And he was not a mistake.