Who am I doing all this for,
Now that I am reaching the end?
I just want it to be quick;
No Huckleberry Friend.

I took you in my arms,
They knew your shape so well,
But I am not the man I was,
I am an empty shell.

I want to make a move
But you pat a message on my back,
So I stand easy
And wait for the dial to turn black.

I see ahead the end of the path;
There is nowhere else to go,
No cosy spot in which to rest,
I hope that it is not too slow.

Birds wheel and clatter in the air,
Dark against the morning sky,
I want to hear the applause,
Not listen to them cry.

Now that it is almost over,
I ponder what has gone before.
No answer to the question,
Who am I doing all this for?