I started thinking myself wise. The holy ghost had filled me up inside. I went off in the world with confidence. I thought myself a man of consequence, and as I drew my new six-shooter I shot myself through upper thigh. I started thinking myself wise; holding court in the mirror every night. Seeing someone I don’t recognize. Lean in close and ask him “who am I?”. Nursing my ego and wounded paw. You were my hero; you’ve lost your charm. Stare at you all night with no response. Eyes out of focus, you’ve done me wrong.