When in a dark night the chamber of guf whispers
that I have failed, that I am failing, that I'll fail
I become mute, lethargic, frightful and afraid
of the pain I'll cause and the pain I'll endure.

Many were the times that I started but stopped
Many were the balls that I juggled and dropped
Many the people I discouraged and spooked
And the times I did good, I did less than I'd hoped

And then I remember that measure is unceasing,
that if you are a good man, why not a better man?
that if a better man, why not a great man?

and if you are a great man, why not yet a god?
And if a god, why not yet a better god?
measure is unceasing, no matter where you stand