I sit before this bottle trapped in paralyzing fear Remembering a prophecy once told to me in a previous year An Oracle once said to me that upon my endeavors I'd find a Genie To not be fooled and that I must think freely That I'd be her master but really her servant To proceed with caution and be vigilantly observant That she'll try to trick me into falling in love And under her magic I'd be blindly trapped of That she'd look like the woman of my dreams far more beautiful than a model But you can't marry a Genie even if you polish the bottle It's been over a century since the last time she was active From the bottle to which she's eternally held captive That I wouldn't ask for my wishes to be made real But instead with her I'd attempt to strike a deal I tried to throw it away But it found its way back to me I tried to move away But its like the bottle only followed me Seems I have no other option but to fulfill this prophecy With that lingering fear that she'll get the best of me