We wrap the fermenter in a blanket
And tuck it into bed
We watch as fermented dreams
Float through his little head
Then we siphon into still,
Careful not to spill
And raise our glasses to the sky

We drink the chemicals
That the fermenter does yield
And with each passing sip
Our fates are sealed

We drink
We drink although we have been told
That the plum tree
Which grows too much fruit
Is fated only to fold

We drink
We drink because we know
That the honorable hunter
Does not **** with his bow

We drink
And drink until we can see
A future in which
We are free

Free to live the lives
That we wish to pursue
Free to sleep through the night
And free to brew