 I know a man who doesn`t have many friends,
I know a place he lives where trouble never ends,
I know it`s hard for him to read between the lines,
and his day are getting so much shorter,
he simply turns away and dons a bitter frown,
his world is crumbling,
his ship is weighted down,
he doesn`t care as long as he can wear the crown,
I know this man all too well,
it`s my poor friend me,
a portrayal of the great dichotomy
it`s my poor friend me
and I`m running out of steam
I know there are people who are cynical and vane,
they point their finger cuz they can`t accept the blame,
they live their lives under a blanket of shame
and their progeny crawl from underneath it,
lately I`ve come to see the solution,
and it begins with me,
but I`m so fallibly human,
I pick the lock
but will not turn the key, yea
all people running scared we live breath and die
all too aware that time is slipping on by
we have solutions but don't even try
and i feel i know just who to blame
it`s my poor friend me,
a reminder of a tragic history
it`s my poor friend me
and I`m running out of steam
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