One More Ring

My room is a museum

A lifetime's of my work

I am the last Mohican

I stand proud although I'm hurt

I keep a cup of secrets

From which I never drink

I am an ancient king

Who sits proud but never thinks

So if I find one more ring

Of yours mixed up among my things

I just might sell all my belongings

To make sure I've cut all my strings

And if I find one more note

Crumpled up inside my coat

I'm moving back to Carolina

Where I'll live out on the coast

I have a box of trinkets

I count them one by one

Each one is a keepsake

From a war that I have won

I have a daily schedule

A comfortable routine

Watch months roll by with pleasure

Like girls walking down the street

I lost all my ambition

Could've settled for less

But if I can't have you

I don't care about the rest

If I find one more strand

Of black hair under my night stand