I am, but a man

I am, but a man

I am, but a man

I am, but a man,

Mere flesh and bone,

I am, from the land,

From seeds, I was grown.

I work the way,

The way is to work,

Out in the day,

Back in the dirt.

The people, the look,

They gaze and stare,

Am I a book?

Why should I care?

They look, and they judge,

Maybe by my cover,

I hold no grudge,

For I am, just another.

Another slave of time,

Just like the rest,

Trying to claim what's mine,

I'm doing my best.

Time it plays, on and on,

It will never stop,

Not for no-one,

Take what you have got.

Sort of like, the drops of rain,

We will all rise,

To be put down again,

The sky; how it cries.

Back home we get,

The door gets locked,

Time for bed,

You've talked the talk.

Then come the dreams,

Soon after you awake,

As fast as it seems,

Where is the break?

The seasons, they change,

Make no mistake,

Things can seem strange,

Or is it just fate?

Life these days,

It's becoming the same,

Losing its ways,

Feels rather plain.

Day in, day out,

It can get quite a mess,

I will not shout,

Over an old game of chess.

Day after night,

Night after day,

Time is so precious,

So much to say.

So as the grains of sand,

Fall quietly among the stars,

Try to understand,

I am not from Mars.

I am, but a man,

I live, and I breathe,

I do what I can,

In the end, I leave.

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