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.
Everyone has their moments of weakness
but not everyone
understands.
