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 cuase 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 brave 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? Such a fool as I am.
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 cuase like his that I would die for?
But still the paper's ion 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.
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