In summer sun or winter sleet,
With sweating brow or frozen feet,
I sit completely incomplete,
And mutter words I can’t repeat.
While liars lie and dreamers dream,
And con-men plot, and plan, and scheme.
Things aren’t always what they seem.
There is in fact no I in team.
There is in fact no team in I.
I stand alone, it’s do or die.
Sometimes I rage, sometimes I cry,
Sometimes I quit before I try.
Sometimes I try before I quit,
When I pretend to give a shit,
But win or lose this game of wit,
I only smile or wince a bit.
And walk away to sit alone,
To ponder things I have been shown,
To know that I am never known,
And heart and soul are all I own.