They’re all above me,
A pity to think that I could play with burns and not expect to ache,
I quake and break at the remembrance I’m another fake held once more by my own lies,
I want to swing with the big guys,
Brother Lee always said to stay in the stands and dance away my chance of playing one day,
Now I sit here and write with the thought of that night that I slipped my chance,
This hell oh toil and pain,
Is it not insane to think I could be a victor in the world of anger and rage,
Let me be with the best to my dying day oh brother,
The time is fading and time is not my enemy but my inevitable end,
Give me one more breath to write with my pen the words I cannot say for the knowledge it will not change the outcome of the day,
The big boys don’t need another companion to keep them alive,
They thrive off of picking on the little guys,
And that’s all the big ones will ever see of me