In a mist of their own confusion They blamed him For the words he had said Words they did not want to hear Or heed What he tried to give them They did not want It did not glisten It did not sparkle He was looking to the moon And they were in the darkness Of the bargain bargain basement Searching for something That might just bling He had given almost All he had away Enough is plenty Is what he would say But he had held on To something to keep him alive While the candle of his life Burned slowly Flickering Within his eyes Fed by the warmth it made In his belly It had made him Whatever he was The one-day hero Was never Going to be Enough What was required Was living the everyday Face to face Challenging The madness The cough had started slow It stayed It spread A subtle contagion More subtle Than those they lived by Left and right It spread A portent of what was to come Of what they watched now Pretending their innocence Denying their murderous guilt Looking to blame someone Anyone else
