I have a problem that I cannot shake
Caught between tectonic plates
Where I love the world
But hate the crowds
I love the people
Yet hate their traits

I have a problem I cannot hide
All alone I fight inside
It withers down my patience few
So here I boil, here I stew
I tend to hate those I detest
Though I have never met the rest

I have a problem, this is true
Where I love to live
But hate to do,
Anything with anyone
For I can't stand give attention due

I have a problem, perhaps, so do you
For we are the unfortunate few.
Those who live behind a mask
Who cling so tight upon the past
We truly are a wretched crew,
But for now we are the unfortunate few