Bottle Baby

Your issue may walk among fine moral spires, But if they went up somebody else built them. Your store is a small one, your goods have no buyers Your parents are raising your children. O, I could have told you, the vices wont hold you warm in a coil where you lay But high up behind you, seized by the temple And bid you obey and obey A heinous, heinous law of an endless, endless love, That governs your poor heart In its velvety chambers Where fellows foul me engage in exchanges Whose ends are to put out your lights Who know from the inside you won't put up a fight To a heinous, heinous law of an endless, endless love, That governs your poor heart It's winter in my bedroom, I stir the broken spring, And I have in my head to go crawling When the hounds come around, I go to the bottle Like every wet shadow before me Now are you angry at me, 'cause I'm no longer free? I don't sound it or say it or feel it But out on the street, somebody told me It happens to everyone. So I don't blame you, it's my foot in my shoe, And I seem to have easily filled it. While the thing in my charge, whether tiny or large I fear I may slowly have killed it Obeying a heinous, heinous law