The punk-rock gentleman in front of me, overcome with fear;
Asking question after question whenever the waitress is near.
Scared of the content of every item in his vegetarian food;
Heard the warning that recalled the spouts left him unglued.
What got him so paranoid about the water set next to his plate;
Examining the glass and asking the waitress if the water’s safe.
I wonder how much brain power it took, how much he had to think,
When he got sleeves of tattoos, did he question what was in the ink?