Sitting in a well lit room
With furnished chairs and polished stairs and walls painted blue
Wearing clothes that fit the mood
With tattered hair and dated flares and eyes that say don’t intrude

The surface calm impairs the view
The buried angst like rumbling tanks destroys and deludes
And lies in bottles sealed, subdued
That won’t emerge until the urge explodes and consumes

All his gifts he takes for granted, all his talents he ignores
Doesn’t want to have to work hard he just wants rewards
All his life he’s been admired, people want to fill his shoes
He’s got everything to lose

A sober stare fixed on a name
Lamented choice a swollen voice are all that remain
The bottle calls, the man refrains
Its contents skew but can’t undo a lifetime of shame

All his gifts he takes for granted, all his talents he ignores
Doesn’t want to have to work hard he just wants rewards
All his life he’s been admired, people want to fill his shoes
He’s got everything to lose