I'm here, so many years later,
Entertaining foolish notions
that I might go and just quit
everything, fearing my time's
up, I might have to renounce
all that I did love,
All I've become,
All of the work;
All for nothing.

I can't quit,
I spent years
crafting who I am,
Or who I thought I was.

Quitting the session almost
sounds like quitting on life
to an Irishman, I feel like
I've gone and quit
being who I am.

Thy time will come again,
When the world need be rethought
in the lair of some gremlins.