Ben Folds Five closes out with one of its most modest songs, musically, at least in terms of the sort of acrobatics the band members go through on the rest of the tracks. The introduction of the string section is a nice touch.

And Folds’ piano work here, though more traditional than his usual percussive rock-n-roll style, is just gorgeous. He performs this delicate waltz with a sensitivity and maturity well beyond his years.

The song is an imaginary conversation between a worn-down Muhammad Ali and Howard Cosell, but it can be read as a metaphor for anybody who has reached the end of his run.

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