Discontent and bored
ignoring all the sores
haven't seen the sun in weeks
world full of empty streets
Following your voice
gave me an ocean of choice
what were the reasons
and lies
didn't buy myself
any time
I'm through chasing you
separate
or combine
as though I've got the flu
yet my soul feels fine
Watching the birds go by
wishing I had wings
eating humble pie
made my heart sing
always questioned why
my lonely ears ring
Oh well
guess the truth
ain't my thing
born a pauper
instead of a king
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem