Pre-game jitters, grace upon the stage
It's been ages since I've been here
An era since I went away
Wonder if I still have it
A sense of magic
I can't accurately describe
Will they chastise me?
Will I stand triumphantly?
A boquet of roses
Or a urn of bad notices?

America loves to watch the comeback story
If the ending promises a tragic obituary
A long time spent in purgatory
Wringing hands plotting my next move.

Flash bulbs become darkness
Hounds lost the scent
Along the barren trail
Fan mail,
Postcard from a bitter rival
"I've always loved you,
So how about an loan?"
Sowed wild oats
Deviated septum or two
Scrape the liver
An enshrined bar stool.

Decadence seems passe
Rotten declares boring
Obliterating the senses
A way of avoiding my true purpose.

Discovered I didn't need the roar
Of the adoring crowd to feel special
Just their reassurance that I was still useful
True friends don't desert worlds of despair
They just suck up every atomic particle
And get lost in each mushroom cloud
No truth allowed
Just an iron clad illusion
Somewhere along the path of adulation
I lost touch with the simplest notions
A firm handshake
The warmest embrace
So I turned my back on my fondest dream
And retired to discover my roots
Invisible but comfortable
Missing yet found

Seclusion as a hermit provided some peace
Still had the itch for a curtain call
Something empty about fame and fortune
Yet so addicted to the spotlight
I'm risking everything
Reputation and soul
Just to entertain the fickle masses
Tonight...

I've already been a nobody
I'll be anybody's fool to be somebody
Curtains slowly being raised
Audience squirming in their seats
Sweat prespiring on the written page
The Devil brandishing the deed
This is no time to panic...

It's opening night.

May-03-Perkins Rd.