Crazy, that's what they say.
All eyes on me this day.
Got my head held high, made the right move.
Yeah, I got that dancehall groove.
Tearing it up across the empty stage.
Dust motes falling like adoring tears.
Rotten timbers across the gate.
I'll just embrace my fate, this neverending game of chase.
Spotlight settling on my sweaty brow.
Tonight I sang all I could, my voice is raw.
Feet broken inside silk slippers.
The show must go on.
So it's into another motion, this slow ocean.
Something about you, that brings the blood to move.
This silent audience for a worn out king.
Is it time to hand out the rings?
Another star faded into the dark.
Where are you now? Where is your mark?
You're nothing to this crowd, faded.
From rising star to scattered dreams.
Still, an ember buried can be free.
Lift a brand for all to see.
Spark anew burning lust.
Raise that fire, I know I must.
Unsteady prints across warped board.
Once more over this stage, I will lord.
The lone acrobat dusting off the chalk.
Down this tightrope, one must walk.
Net looming beneath, it's just a prop.
It felt so good to be on top.
Crack and pop goes the rope, splitting thin that hope.
You ever had of coming back.
Climbing to the peak, of skill and unyielding physique.
That tortured muse was left behind.
Wrapped in rags, tight is the bind.
Lost in the depths of your mind.
Tongue burnt out, eyes milky and blind.
Still, the fingers tap the seat.
Scraping new marks with each beat.
No longer to perform, a rest? what a treat!
Face covered slowly by the cool sheet.
You can never straighten from the last bow.
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