What is your terrible sadness sir-
within, what memories does the sadness stir?
Sorrowful words drip from your mouth like a poisonous honey-
yet you have a life of fame and vaults of money.
You think it better to drown your sorrow by drink-
to a state of numbness, just to no longer think.
You are the greatest symbol of perfect imperfection, the fame and the man-
you have lulled me into your tragedy, was that part of your plan?
For someone who sings to us of beauty and light-
yet you then mumble to us and expose your fright.
Why is you world not joyful and profound-
why is there a blissful agony to your sound?
So what in turn may we all do-
to conjure for you a life that is true?
All we want is a smile and bow-
for you to take the weight of the world from your troubled brow.
Then, for all, rejoice and sing-
because of all the happiness you bring |
