Not a specific or pre defined the random man is much maligned
Not fitting the mould or a towing the line the random man has his own mind
Now the mind may be a little mixed up like pop in a bottle all shuck up
He may have days he can't face the world, knowing his voice can't be heard
Days his flesh burns to the touch and his heart is lost in an empty husk
So the random man simply bimbles on unnoticed by all, glimpsed by some
A trace of him left here or there, but no one has his life to share
The random man be he you or me, exists in all of lifes journey
Some day he may even cross your path, but you won't notice till he has passed