We've both been told that you don't have a heart,
And I simply must sate my curiosity.
'Cause if it's true, Honey, then this is just the start
Of my pursuit of someone who thinks like me.
But alas, O Hero mine, your fate is sealed.
I have only to look into those clever eyes,
And I can tell your heart is perfectly real…
And so it is that every true genius dies.
See, I'd gladly be your Villain, Hero mine,
If only you didn't call out that ordinary name.
Our lives and our mentalities could intertwine,
For you and I, oh! We are just the same!
But look at that fear…
Not for your own skin and bones at all.
Listen to these lies we hear,
Listen to the wind as you fall.
And I'm sorry, truly I am.
Sorry I can't feel the chill of vertigo
And that euphoria of the knowingly damned.
I'm sorry, really, that you get to go…
To feel the glory of a storied drop!
To tangle with the force of gravity!
To see that concrete as the world start to stop
And to fall under the weight of your silly responsibility.
It's such a grand way to go out, you see.
It's a very good story, I'm certain of that.
It's a fitting death for one such as James Moriarty:
The whoosh, the flailing, the SPLAT!
But no
I think not
I have to
Out with the shot
Of an ordinary gun.
No fanfare
From anyone,
Just my body lying there.
And as that last light
Flashes in my eyes,
I swear that just before the angel's flight
I can see how his heart cries.
Not for himself at all!
Not for his legacy!
For something so stupid and small,
For someone other than you and me.
Hear that voice on the other line,
O Consulting Detective.
Listen to your blogger's tears, Hero Mine.
Listen to his affection, totally elective.
You! False genius that you are,
Clever as clever can be!
You have led me on so long and so far!
You have been unfair to me.
You are ordinary, is my problem here.
You aren't any real fun at all.
So let your eyes widen with fear,
Because I'm sorry that I cannot take this fall.
After all, friend of my own,
I do owe you this much for all you have done.
You are, you see, the closest to my mind I have known
And so, as far as rivals: you're my only one.
I do wish I could feel that wind past my face,
Put on a show worth of the story I've told.
But when you fight me in this high-up place,
I'm afraid you're doing to fold.
All your friends, Sherlock, need you
To leave that note, make that final call.
I, Moriarty, admit that I need you
In my stead to take… this… final… fall.
And so I do apologize for this,
As I have been searching for you for so long.
I'm sorry it's you who feels death's sweet kiss,
But this… is the end of our fairytale song.