I am justly inadequate no one knows my name the strangers I pass by all treat me just the same. They never ask about my day or if I feel okay, we all look on in silence repeating yesterday.
I am justly inadequate I work hard to be not enough my conscience is never heavy but my heart isn't up to *****. My hands are warm and loving, callused, hard and rough, a willing heart without a reason just never has been enough.
I am justly inadequate I stare out windows thinking that if I could just be someone else then I would get a chance to be the man I could have been but as I am, I know I can't.
I am justly inadequate no one knows my name. And every time I try to laugh I can only muster shame. I try to smile, once in a while, to trick the gloom away, but I still know that I am inadequate any day.