So Many People Themselves Do Promote

So many people themselves do promote Yet not everyone can be someone of note Your own praises to others you may sing But only one can be the best at anything Not everyone can know of Worldly fame But the Reaper treats all equal all the same With his sharp scythe he mows the wealthy and famous down He treats them as he treats the paupers of the town 'Tis a fact of life and facts do never lie That we are mortals and all mortals are born to die We cannot bring back the Seasons that are gone And only Nature herself does live on You may promote yourself as someone great But you may not be the one others do celebrate.