You tried, you've fallen short. Time to leave. Goodbye. Dont take what isnt yours (never was) anymore. Three cheers for a job half done, well failed, we tried, no room inside. Go room outside. Why leave this alone when we can blame you? You, the very statement of perfection, what has befallen those who've fallen this far? Redemption? No story ends like that this time. People will say we've done great things. We, the true misers, are the true heroes, the true rulers of truthful experience. You will not find your battle here, keep straggling. For we are the final arbiters of greatness.