You get your name carved on a marble wall
In a place where nobody knows your name.
You played the game for all you were worth
and found wanting in the only way that matters.
Now they drape their flag over the box you rest in
Lower it with honors and cover it with soil;
The soil of the place you fought for and fell.
With the pressure, weight and passage of time
You will reach the priceless state of gas and oil;
coal, diamonds, resources, energy and capital that
brought you here to get your name on the wall.
This is the stuff of which legends, mythology
and sainthood are made.
You, too can become immortal.