There came another reminder, flew in on a jet.
The cursive words on the page said, "You're not finished yet.
You cannot shoot the messenger, don't commit a foul.
Come rest your head,
But please don't throw in the towel".

Putting a finger to his neck he could feel a pulse.
'Til the pills took over him and started to convulse.
His femme fatale discovered him, she began to howl,
"Come rest your head,
But please don't throw in the towel".

In a wasted dreamworld landscape he did lose his mind.
Looking for the forgotten face he was trying to find.
He listened to an ancient monk, hidden by a cowl,
"Come rest your head,
But please don't throw in the towel".

The woman who protected him held him to her breast.
All the signs pointed to the east, but he headed west.
Wandering on in the wet woods when these words did prowl,
"Come rest your head,
But please don't throw in the towel".

The man's body went limp and cold in the woman's arms.
Everyone could see it coming, no need for alarms.
She reminisced of all the times she laughed at his scowl,
"Come rest your head,
But please don't throw in the towel".