Rites Of Passage

The days are getting short
Or am I growing old?
I don't think about it now
My coffee's getting cold
Tribal dancing, ritual;
Crutches for the lame
Everybody's happy to play society's games

I've locked the door behind me
To save me from my friends
Coz don't people who slap your back
Always stab it in the end?
Oh it's "What did you get for Christmas?"
And "When's the baby due?"
And "Why doesn't anyone ever fall in love with you?"

Don't want to get over-emotional
But it makes me so distraught
Being forced to follow
Other people's lines of thought
And all our tortured thinking
Is just providing fuel
To keep the fires burning in philosophy schools.