The Man In The Mirror
Another day has gone,
Another night approaches,
While I lie and yawn,
The danger nimbly encroaches.
My preparation is effete,
My morale, wavering,
Though it is a good beat,
But my voice is quavering.
As the day draws near,
I fear I will be slain,
I dwell on the thoughts of my dear,
While the man in the mirror stares at me again.
