Heartrate racing, not an empty seat in the house,
Quiet as a mouse, I give the crowd the once over,
Standing there, shivering like a shell-shocked soldier.
As I open my dry and reluctant mouth,
all thats heard is whiny feedback.
Microphone mockery, telling me to speak up,
we can't hear you in the back.
I can barely muster up a whisper, hesitation noted,
I wring my hands until they blister.
My greatest work, remembered for me being a jerk.
All the sacrifice this took, all the words I wrote,
all gone because they know I'm clearly shook.
I'll never get this moment back,
no matter how wide I open my eyes,
all I see is black.
I'll always be the butt of the joke.
Under pressure, I'm always gonna choke.
What is this, that never gave me a chance?
Despite my plodding progress, I never seem to advance.
No matter what the circumstance,
no matter all the friendly persuasion,
I'll never find the answer to this equation,
that will end this lifetime of frustration.
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