He bluffed his way through it with a thickening beard,
and no one around him thought it was weird,
they believed he was growing up, shedding the skins,
but he was a baby, trapped for his sins.
He travelled the globe painting a dream,
seducing the ladies, keeping them keen,
dancing all year to the sound of his song,
under fake stars, the glint had all gone.
He then met a gentleman who was one hundred and four,
clean shaven, well dressed, he stood at his door,
no questions to ask him, not even his name,
mirror reflecting, no one to blame.
