the next stanza:
I'll ask the man behind the bar for the jukebox
And the music takes me back to Tennessee
And when they ask who's the fool in the corner, crying
I'll say, ______ ___ ____ _______ __
 He - (Simón Bolívar) - was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finishing line. The rest was darkness. "Damn it," He sighed. "How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!" So what’s the labyrinth? That’s the mystery isn’t it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape - the world, or, the end of it?
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