Slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails
Vanilla smiles and strawberry pails
Lots of faces laughing at me
Is it malice, in their eyes I see?
Feeling like a lamb to the slaughter
I climb the steps to the alter.
Of life where I am judged
By those who don't know me
Stirring, twirling, the cauldron claims
All my youth, my heart, my veins
On a stage where the audience hides
Cruelly taunting with vicious jibes
Feeling immeasurably lost and stupid
What more could I expect from myself
The tendrils of smoke rise from the pot
And engulf me until I melt
But my saving potion will surely be
Rising, thundering, right out of me!
For I may be silly and naive, but never ever
A crumbling child on their knees