For Figaros

Say goodbye to Figaro,
farewell to friends from clown,
The last act's almost over,
black curtain's almost down,
The last song nears it's finish,
all house lights hit the crowd.
There's no applause for Figaro,
he's clothed in burial shroud.

Say goodbye to Figaro,
as heroes go he's null.
His whole career was sung for you,
but voice got cracked and dull.
instead of being gracious,
the crowd just turned their head,
ignored the song he lived to sing,
with that the clown was dead.

Say hello to Darkness,
the spotlights never shine.
That Figaro is gone now,
words lost in history's time.
The opera's song is over,
the stage packed up and lost,
Only ghosts walk hallowed halls,
that once were shiny glossed.

Pray tonight for Figaro,
for songs recast in spell,
perhaps a new found audience,
will know the words as well.
Please give him his ovation,
pay what his life's work cost,
so maybe other Figaros,
no longer will be lost.

Do you know a Figaro?
Have you quenched the thirst?
an artist's only recompence,
thanks for creations birth,
is that lone soul clapping,
who gives the drink of life,
and makes up for the lonliness,
of taking art for wife.

I myself am Figaro,
I need that lone ovation,
to let me know the price I paid,
was worth the empty station.
and though I chose another wife,
I took this mistress too,
and she gave birth to all these words,
and raised them up to you.

So please, all raise a glass of cheer
to other Figaros as well,
who's artistry has led them through,
the lonely inner path of hell.
They all deserve to hear it once,
for all the things they've set aside,
to bring creations to your life,
to pass them on before they've died.