I'll paly Bacchus for the evening,. pray, be seated, take your places. Should my manna seem displeasing,. offend your airs and graces,. I've a list long as your arm,.
Pray for my poor melancholy soul,. I've cried so many tears inside -. My head's a goldfish bowl.. A mood so deep - so far above you all,. With no one there to catch me if i fall..