How come the only voices I hear at night are my own?
I cry out for solace, but no one dares pick up the phone.
So it's another night of laying awake, simply wondering why.
Why am I the lonely one? I thought I was a good guy.

No woman wants to take a chance on the one that's a little odd.
They simply want a dashing smile and a perfectly sculpted ***.
And even if that isn't true, I simply cannot see.
Why no girl ever wants to take a chance on me.

Maybe it's because I lack the confidence to give myself a chance.
But it's hard to find faith in yourself when no one will give a glance.
So instead I'll write my loneliness down, and drown it all away.
For a bottle of beer I'll never fear because it never has words to say.

A troubled heart and troubled mind are often one in the same.
But this loneliness and unwillingness must be the one to blame.
And I guess I'll end this poem with another bitter  word.
Cause I'm simply nothing more than the odd one in the herd.