Now, at the closing of the show, I rest my weary head,
To feel the endless days run off, and leave me dead.
And, though embers only glow in a furnace tame,
I know, the fire always dies, but not the flame.
Yes, I've harbored many dragons which I should have slain.
I've ducked my head and turned my back in fear of pain.
Few, too few have been the victories, but just the same,
The fire lay oft neglected, but not the flame.
God, please, let the grand facade I've built around me stand.
Let the things I'd always hoped I'd be, be what I am.
Lord, grant that I might walk away from roads of shame.
If the fire must die tonight, then keep the flame.