I take some paper on my hand, And with a pencil draw a man The dream of what I'd really, really like to be. A man with courage in his brow, Who;'s licked his doubts and fears somehow, A warrior of great nobility. But who am I? Just a wandering kid. A cipher on the wall, not even brave at all! And where's my dream like his that I would fight for? And where's my cuase like his that I would die for? And in his eyes he's not a afraid Because you see he's got it made The dream of what I'd really, really like to be. A brave and noble, fiery youth. Who's not afraid to die for truth. Who's tall and straight, but best of all he's free! But who am I? Such a fool as I am. A cipher on the wall, not even brave at all! And where's my dream like his that I would fight for? And where's my cuase like his that I would die for? But still the paper's ion my hand And every day I sketch that man Who knows the truth and what life's all about! My conscience says I should be him I guess I could at least begin But chances are I'd probably strike out.
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