Acrobat

Go ahead, think you're the shit, think you're the tits, your mind is doing splits. Does your head hurt? Are you calling it quits?

You're no acrobat, your skills are lousy at that. I'd help you up if you'd only accept it, instead of holding it against me like a blade to my neck.  

Stop and see, but you won't, your show-stopping blindfolded trick prevents it. There's no common sense, and it's affecting your balance. 

Your fingernails pulled away from their beds during your last act, crumpled in a swan dive to the floor. 

Shredded, your clumsy get-up prevented the heights that you sought to soar. Worn out, faded pout, black smoke, you've finally burned out. 

No more effort to be wasted, since the high wire betrayed you.  It snapped back with precision, now your show will never sell out.