Welcome to the kitchen of the moral cafe
Where the chef is preparing a virtue souffle
If you pour in the rashness the oven explodes
And the cowardly batter just sinks with the toads
You are aiming for courage a delicate spice
But you throw in too much and you pay a high price
The glutton is eating the plates and the chairs
While the starving ascetic is dining on air
Oh the Golden Mean is a recipe
For the finest dessert in our history
You cannot be salty you cannot be bland
You must perfectly measure the flour in your hand
Between the excess and the empty extreme
Lies the beautiful taste of the ultimate dream
So sharpen the cleaver and keep the bowl clean
And cook in the center the Golden Mean
If you flatter the patron you look like a fool
Just a sycophant swimming inside of a pool
If you act like a grouch and you spit in the soup
They will throw you right out with the cynical group
You must find the exact proper dose of the wit
Knowing when to stand up knowing when you should sit
Its a delicate ratio of butter and fat
Like balancing elephants onto a cat
Milo the wrestler needs twenty whole steaks
But if I eat that many my stomach just breaks
The middle is relative based on the man
You must calculate perfectly into the pan
You cannot just follow a rigid set rule
You must use your own logic and pick up the tool
To measure the heat so you dont play the fool
Oh the Golden Mean is a recipe
For the finest dessert in our history
You cannot be salty you cannot be bland
You must perfectly measure the flour in your hand
Between the excess and the empty extreme
Lies the beautiful taste of the ultimate dream
So sharpen the cleaver and keep the bowl clean
And cook in the center the Golden Mean
A pinch of the courage
A dash of the pride
Not too much anger
Keep the reason inside
Bon appetit