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