Like a tiny bird in the road,
Like a milk white swan without a song,
My heart has tried for so, so long,
But I don’t belong.

Like a death among the living,
Like a cast off runt, no song to sing,
Like a dirty beggar by a king,
God knows I’ve tried, but I don’t fit in.

Like a stained old rag in an ocean of tears,
Like a little voice in a sea of fears,
In the midst of the crowd all on my own,
I stand alone.

Like a knife through a beating heart,
Like the finish line before the start,
And like a spellbound song with no melody,
I can’t be free.

But like a baby with no eyes to see,
And like a dream searching for reality,
I’ll find my way and I’ll find home,
But I’ll stand alone.

 
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