We run, we hide, we cheat and lie
but all that aside,
we still want to be known by someone before we die.

We have have a compulsion to spill our little tales,
from knowing the Queen of England,
to being the beggar of Wales.

What have you done my friend?
That makes you so scared?
What has gotten you this way,
that you are so defensively prepared?

I wish I knew how to break that shell,
but rather you safe there,
then to unleash the furies of hell.

My friend, I respect you, i love our friendship so,
so prying to your secrets of secrets, I shall dare not go.

My friend you are worth it,
every confusing mistake.
Because you are the friend, that I chose to make.