On the floor, but not grooving;
Every year of my life
I spend several months proving
That there's nowhere I fit
and there's nothing I offer;
That I'll shirk just as soon
As there's pay in my coffers;
That I know what I like;
That this doesn't suffice;
That I don't take precautions
and I don't take advice;
That my fairways are tightropes
and my hazards are lakes;
That I'll try all the new flavors
Of my old mistakes;
That wherever I end up,
Whatever I do,
That my flaws will be many
and always in view.
