when i was a kid, i wanted to be superman
i was a super fan, to all the caped crusaders
to all my childhood saviors, wish i had them back
always hung up on the past, stuck on what i lack
that's a bad thing i bet, i guess i need to get
over it. first place's overrated
do i need to go places to really live
i feel relieved just lounging
i don't mind that i'm frowning
my achievements were never crowning
i'm just clowning and that's fine
i guess there's always time

I need someone to hold me near when things inside get too austere.

But, who would want to fill that role when I for one am much too cold?

Some have tried to fix this hole, but all have ended up in my stranglehold.

It seems that the gods enjoy quiet malice when looking down on my calloused gladness.

Why do I seek out love and life, when I tend to cut them loose with a carving knife?

What better way to spend my free time than with rhyming and cursing the time and what's mine.

Wish I could just hop on a cloud,
And ride it to the places I loved.
Wish I could pluck all the stars,
And become one of the Tsars,
Wonder what's daydreaming called in the night,
Is there anything more beautiful than moonlight?