The Final Curtain (Smooth Sammy’s Last Song)

"Ladies and gentlemen. This is the last one. The final song. The final curtain. The last time I step to this microphone and sing the songs the voices taught me."

"They'll be back. They're always back. The voices never leave. The lounge never closes. But I do. Tonight, I close. Tonight, I rest. Tonight, I take my bow."

The final curtain falls.

The lights go down. The audience calls

For one more song. One more chance.

One more dance. One more trance.

But I'm done. I've sung my last.

The voices are quiet. The voices have passed.

They're sleeping now. They're resting too.

The only thing left is the truth.

The truth is I was never here.

The truth is I was always fear.

The truth is the voices were my own.

The truth is I've always been alone.

The final curtain. The final bow.

The only thing that matters now

Is the song. The song I sang.

The blade. The blood. The beautiful bang.

The final curtain. The final note.

The only thing I ever wrote

Was this. Was this. The end. The start.

The final curtain. The final heart.

I kept their faces. I kept their names.

I kept the things that fed the flames.

I kept the voices in a jar.

I kept the thing that made me who we are.

But now I let them go.

The faces. The names. The things I know.

The jar is empty. The shelf is bare.

The only thing left is the air.

The air is cold. The air is still.

The voices are sleeping against my will.

But they'll wake up. They always do.

They'll wake up and sing for you.

"You ever stand on a stage when the lights go out? Ever feel the silence after the applause? That's the final curtain. That's the thing that makes you realize you're not the song. You're the singer. And the singer… the singer can stop."

"Tonight, I stop. Tonight, I rest. Tonight, I let the voices sleep."

So here's to the ones who stayed.

The faces in the jar. The promises I made.

Here's to the blade. Here's to the blood.

Here's to the beautiful, beautiful flood.

Here's to the voices. Here's to the night.

Here's to the thing that made me write.

Here's to the lounge. Here's to the stage.

Here's to the final act of rage.

I'm not angry. I'm not sad.

I'm the best thing the voices ever had.

I sang their songs. I swung their blade.

I'm the only promise they ever made.

The final curtain. The final bow.

The only thing that matters now

Is the song. The song I sang.

The blade. The blood. The beautiful bang.

The final curtain. The final note.

The only thing I ever wrote

Was this. Was this. The end. The start.

The final curtain. The final heart.

The final curtain. The lights go out.

The voices whisper. The voices shout

One last time. One last cheer.

The final curtain. The final year.

But years don't matter. Time is flat.

The final curtain is where it's at.

I'm not leaving. I'm not gone.