Living in his feral mind
Always travelling twisted roads
He knows about right and wrong
But he's a very sharp man
And he's noticed who say to do right
Quite often do wrong
So he doesn't take it too seriously

He just does what feels good to him
Without worrying much about others
There's a trail of friends and lovers
Left in careless disarray
As their usefulness to him wanes
He moves on to the next toy


But you can't really blame him
How can you stay angry?
He's just like a little boy
Who doesn't know any better
His eyes charm the birds from the trees
And his smile is as wide as the sea
So that's alright, then

                             By Phil Roberts