I'm just a man, who was born to die,
I can't hardly walk,
Never learned to fly,
But oh how I talk,
That I can't deny.
I'm just a man, with bad elbows and knees,
And dust blowing by,
Makes me want to sneeze.
And sometimes I cry,
But oh how I talk,
That I'll never deny.
I'm just a man, who's often afraid,
Of my own shadow at times.
Though my dues I have paid,
But oh how I talk,
Just Like I've got it made.
I'm just a man, so tiny it's true,
In the great scheme of things,
Just like you, and you.
But oh how we talk,
Till our faces turn blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem