The grace of it all is drying up
And I am left to gather the fallen leaves
I smoke the tobacco of a dying world
And it leaves great pain in its wake
Up until now I have been content
To live a sordid life within my head
But lately the dreams that have fed me
Arrive to me labored and strained
It was not so long ago that I wore my boyhood crown
With greater command of my inner being
And though the lessons I have learned since
Have not come in vain
They have carved the better half
Of what I was supposed to be