And there's the hidden bogeyman you fear
in wait beneath your bed
You might as well surrender
the advancing years are coming up ahead
All your pledges and promises,
every action constrained
by what's been said.
You might as well admit
that in the final reckoning
fame and fortune
are falsehoods that'll leave you for dead.
Reputation you've traded on
is a fragile thing
that won't last long
Buried treasure you banked upon
now you've lost the map and the key.
You were offered the cup,
and drank so deep
on the cult of your personality.
But none of that will matter come the day
when all the psychic armour you wore falls away
Reputation you traded on
is a fragile thing
that won't last long
Buried treasure you banked upon
but you've lost the map and the key
That reputation you traded on
no longer means very much to me.