He was born without title or great height
Not for fame, not for pay growing higher -
In his own odd way that would serve
He walked along life in the limelight
On a wire, on a wire,
Tight and taut as a nerve.

Look, there’s no safety net
Stretched beneath him this run.
Just a tilt to the left -
He is lost, he is gone...

Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today.
But stay calm, he somehow Needs to cross without delay
Four full quarters of the way.

 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 

And the beams beat at him from below
And like laurels, piercing, lashing...
And the trumpets in fanfare strained.
He was deafened by shouts "Bravo!"
And the cymbals, crashing, crashing
Like a club through his brain.

Look, there’s no safety net
Stretched beneath him, below.
Just a tilt to the left -
He is lost, he will go...

Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today.
But stay calm, he now Needs to cross without delay
Just three quarters of the way.

"Oh, how frightening, how brave, how pretty!"
Their mouths agape without sound;
"Three minutes of dancing with death!"
From his height, a lilliputian city
All around, all around
Stared up, mournfully holding their breath.

Look, there’s no safety net
Stretched beneath him this run
Just a tilt to the left -
He is lost, he is gone...

Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today.
But stay calm, he now Needs to cross without delay
Only two quarters of the way.

He had laughed at transient glory
But first place was his only desire -
Try and bury a man with such drive!
Above the ring, transitory,
On our nerves, on our nerves, not on wire,
He walked, to the drumbeat of lives.

Look, there’s no safety net
Stretched beneath him this run.
Just a tilt to the left -
He is lost, he is gone...

Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today.
But stay calm, for now He has left, today,
Only a quarter of the way!

And the beasts, at the ringmaster’s yelling
Put their paws on the gurney...
But the sentence is final and dread:
Was he lost, or too sure, now no telling
But his journey, but his journey...
His chagrin - spills on sawdust blood-red.

And there’s no safety net
Beneath another, this run
Underneath him, a thread -
He will fall, he is gone!

A degree left or right - No surviving today.
But stay calm, he too somehow Needs to cross without delay
Four full quarters of the way.