I have sat like you and watched,
And like you I have thought on what I've seen
And wondered at the ant-like work of man.
Yet in the end it cannot be denied
That in the life of everyman is given
One chance to play a solo which is great.
We walk among the dustbins through the years
And kiss the hand and bow before convention.
We smile and laugh politely.
We crawl, we weep, we dance to fit th'occasion.
And then alone and frightened in the spotlight,
The darkened audience hushed with expectation,
The muffled roll of drums into crescendo,
Then, and only then, will history judge us.
For then we had our chance.