With pencil and tears I write this down
A heart full of sadness a face with a frown
Who is it really that cares for me?
I asked my God on bended knee

No answer came I expected none
I surrender, I quit, I give up you’ve won
Sitting alone in silence and dark
My life has not been a walk in the park

No one will help me; I go it alone
The dead grass, which I am, was freshly mown
Cut off from others and self I am now
Withering and dieing someway, somehow

With pencil and tears I write this down
A heart full of sadness a face with a frown
Who is it really that cares for me?
I asked my God on bended knee

An answer came or so I thought
I do, I do but I must be bought
Its par for the coarse, I expected as much
A life without meaning is thus and such

I’d ask for help, but tire of looks
All I have now are my friends, my books
They are not judgmental of me at all
They do not badger, batter or maul

With pencil and tears I write this down
A heart full of sadness a face with a frown
Who is it really that cares for me?
I asked my God on bended knee.