The world is too much to handle for a man who's in a constant battle,
Carrying a double-edged sword
Of kindness and sensitivity,
He never backs down on his words
But this, in turn, is used against him to arouse a nascent gullibility.

He's very zen,
Constructing his own idea of heaven
But whenever he lets people in
All they want is see themselves win -
Oblivious to his suffering,
They'll open their floodgates without closing
And he'll be left carrying their belongings.
What's it really like to be used?
Ask him so he can tell about his blues:
Detesting the culture of superficiality,
Loud noises, loud mouths, loud identities,
Is there an escape from all of this frivolity?
What he yearns...