I'm ten-thousand things,
And I'm ten-thousand people.
Ten-thousand things that make up a me.

Sometimes I'm happy,
Sometimes not so much,
Sometimes I'm somewhere in-between.

We - as people - are all made up,
Of an uncountable amount of elements.
Always twisting and changing
Recreating, rearranging,
It's no surprise that sometimes,
We change like the weather.

Sometimes I'm sad,
Sometimes I'm neurotic,
Borderline psychotic, on the cusp of insane.

You're ten-thousand things,
You're ten-thousand people,
And I love every one just the same.