I’d rather not 

Sitting with my teacup 

I’ll let my hands burn 

I’d rather not 

Watching all the others live their lives 

Well mine ended, long back in 1992 

19 years young, 19 years old 

Back when I lived, I roared 

Now, gagged and froze 

Back in 1992 I used to sit by the fire 

And feed the rage of the flames 

I’d rather not sit pretty 

But we’re past that 

No longer 1992 

I’m sewed and glued 

I’d rather not though 

Sit in this white painted seat 

Only here to stare at my teacup