In the bathtub that I am running now
Is a concoction of high-falutin and low-brow
A myriad of unique spices and herbs
To form the essences that you may call Souls
I've got a soulution, not a pollution
Something to cleanse is what I need
A rinse-off, not a one-off
No towel needed for these souls do not bleed
I've got a soulution, don't need absolution
There is a group of nerds in that corner
Suds galore to cover their privates
So they can't complain anymore.
As I stir in my secret blend, things heat up
There is no way to tell for sure
How it will all come out
So I just keep on adding ingredients
Stir, season and taste, that's my way
Some souls are built on a whim
Others subjected to severe scrutiny
Some acidic, others mildly abrasive at most
But however I feel, whatever my mood
Whether jolly and feeling light
Or more sombre and pensive
I still express my moods in this Soulution.
How to dissect a soul? you may ask
Then place its essence in solution
There is no school where I can learn better
Then the splicing of souls for my amusement.
Slicing fragments, bit by bit
Cutting the thin threads no larger than a
Hair's width, I realize
I have one too.
I've got a soulution full of nascent souls
Some deserve to be set free
But what they'll get is a rinse-off, not a one-off
A true smorgasbord of spirits all for me.
