I take some paper on my hand,  And with a pencil draw a man  The dream of what I'd really, really like to be.  A man with courage in his brow,  Who's licked his doubts and fears somehow,  A warrior of great nobility.  But who am I? Just a wandering kid.  A cipher on the wall, not even brave at all!  And where's my dream like his that I would fight for?  And where's my cause like his that I would die for?  And in his eyes he's not a afraid  Because you see he's got it made  The dream of what I'd really, really like to be.  A tall and noble, fiery youth.  Who's not afraid to die for truth.  Who's tall and straight, but best of all he's free!  But who am I? Just a wandering kid.  A cipher on the wall, not even brave at all!  And where's my dream like his that I would fight for?  And where's my cause like his that I would die for?  But still the paper's in my hand  And every day I sketch that man  Who knows the truth and what life's all about!  My conscience says I should be him  I guess I could at least begin  But chances are I'd probably strike out.