Oh the world is not yet ready for art of this stature...
Oh oh...
Oh the "poets" that reside here are so ungrateful, they do not appreciate fine art such as mine.
Oh oh...
Perhaps I shall end it all today...
And go the way of Vincent Vango...
A fine artist's art is never realized...
Until he crosses the great divide...
Oh for now...
I retreat to my abode...
To craft fine art in solitude...
Perhaps I will get impatient...
Perhaps I will wait until the reaper arrives...
Oh oh...
When I perish the magnitude of art will be seen...
It is now painfully obvious that this world is not yet ready for art as fine as my own. I leave my art here so that it may inspire future generations, perhaps one day I will even come back if I live to behold the day the world matures. I go now to craft art in solitude.