What makes a man tick?
What reduces him to ****, to go berserk and run
Creating art and guns, what makes him hate?

I have seen men banging their heads against a wall.
I have seen men not once crying taking the greatest of falls.
I have seen men, cheaper than cheapest, kinder than what you and I can ever be.
I have seen men, give away their lives, for reasons lost, lost in the sea.

What makes a man sick ?
What eats him to death, to go so numb and frail
To build bridges and rails, and to write Macbeth?