Myself
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Myself
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Myself I am a man, I am a poor soul Always in the dark, without a goal I am a man with so many dreams Like a birthday cake topped with creams Dreams of light, dreams of flight All turned down by the God, Almight I am a machine with a reputation so lean I am lover with an infatuation to clean Soul without salvation, an animal with frustration I am a threat to damnation A complete failure, hungry, burnt out player People think of me as a fly slayer All lost, for the games I lost in this world Alas! But still living in this world When anybody goes down, I come to the aid But instead of helping, I make him fade This is the only good thing I wrote Out of the philosophy, which I have bought Weak, meek and oppressed, I am so depressed That I prefer, better walk the streets undressed |