Oh! What is this dark shadow around me, and this breeze so chilly and cold, Must I always live the life of a pauper, and do as I'm always told,
I have no ground to stand on, no place, fame or wealth, and if I cough here slowly, it's because of my fading health,
People, they always laugh at me, at my worn and tattered clothes, friends don't
come around me, they don't even want to get close.