My soul is not consumed in fire
I lack for passion or desire
I can’t have fun, I’m far too wise
I wish I was a little higher
The mass of flesh, it terrifies
And watches with a hundred eyes
A china shop and I’m the bull
It doesn’t fit, it’s not my size
I feel the frenzied push-and-pull
Of midnight Bacchic ritual
A chain that I can’t seem to link
But does it need me? No, it’s full
The music’s not too loud to think
And so inside these thoughts I sink
The Fountain of Youth, I do admire
But I’m afraid to stop and drink