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Dead, cast aside, you thought that was it
The day you had enough and decided to quit
Was that an apparition, a face from the past
The day you decided would be your very last

The tales you had told of agony and glory
Were they all true or some cuckolded story
You held licence free to tell what you saw
Always hordes around you, they begged for more

Flimsy with the truth as you trod the lonely stage
Underneath the championing there grew mighty rage
Dedicating your powers to those so erstwhile
Newness upon you did not make you smile

Growing tired of a path that lost its razzmatazz
You shrunk in a suit that had drained all pizzazz
A cold morning you rode a rope against a tall tree
And no-one could offer a consoling hand to thee

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