Sit a while and read the account
Of my fall from grace and how I climbed out
Of the hole in the ground into which my life fell
And the stroke of good fortune that saved me from Hell
I’m going to tell you, right after this rhyme
Of a lonely, old man's tall tales of a time
When his bones weren't so brittle nor muscles so weak
When the old man was younger, not nearly so meek
Of wars and of pirates, of battling clans
Of islands deserted and dastardly plans
That all needed thwarting, and thwart them he had
When the lonely old man was a strapping, young lad
Now, read on my new friend, I need to convey
The events that led me to that place and that day
When first I met a man with white hair
A man that wasn't really there
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