Antarctica

When he was my age, he wore
A humble smile, and tennis shorts
The colour of Antarctica
He'd glide across the court
Stealing dreams with a tricky serve
Those sepia crowds were lost for words
Wimbledon to wild New York
That smile lit up the Earth

But now, now...

When I was newborn, he ran
A white tuxedo media gang
Speeding back from preview screenings
To sing for me, so I'd stop screaming
When I was thirteen, he taught
Me shaky-handed simple chords
Later, when we'd share the stage
That humble smile would light his face

But how, how
Can I look at him now?

He writhes crippled in his bed
A silent shell that something fled
Young men laugh on Centre Court
On-screen above his head
We're told there's nothing to be done
He's too weak for Switzerland
I sing for him, then scream in the shower
Years go by, but it's been hours

You wouldn't do this to your dog
Let alone the noble man he was
You wouldn't do this to your dog
You wouldn't do this to your dog
Let alone the noble man he was
You wouldn't do this to your dog
Don't give a damn about your God
Can you give me one good reason not
To let him turn this torture off?

I dream I unhook all his tubes
And wheel him out the back into
One last movie limousine
Drive out under the moon
Somewhere bright and cool and free
Like the boy he used to be
He'll shiver like Antarctica
I'll watch him fall asleep