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I'd just done the best work To fall into my hands for quite some time: Of night oil I'd burned much, Made sure both style and content were sublime So I put it forward To the public forum In anticipation of my due acclaim. And meanwhile, by contrast, I'd penned a eulogy, pure workaday, Just hack work, just dashed off, Packed full of prolix puff and sad cliche.... No-one can really tell When their hand's been played out well And I don't even know How my own story goes Or if it's worth a jot. I can't see my stream. What I thought was perfect, What I thought was polished, No-one thought it worth much And they made that clear. What I thought was worthless, Merely repetition SongtexteSomehow tugged the heartstrings, Brought them all to tears. I can't see my stream. No-one can ever know What of their own's their very best. Aus Songtexte Mania