Although it goes against the grain
I must decrease and fade
Become someone who does the work
Without an accolade
Pride has had it's shelf life
No longer will I gloat
I'll be industrious just the same
Beneath an overcoat.
So why this sudden action?
Am I in sad decline?
The strain of being fruitful
Has destroyed the flowing wine?
No, I'm giving glory
To the author of my odes
I'm letting Him take all the bows
Because I owe Him loads.
