On days like this he’s fed up of them all
Those that play their games and don’t take his call
They claim to be his friends and more
But in reality an imitation that is poor
All he wants is an answer to his questions
So he won’t be in limbo and can move on
But they ignore him all the time of late
Are they trying to tell him, starting to grate
Not for the first time he questions their integrity
And all they’re supposed to be in sincerity
Why don’t they just be honest and open
Sometimes he feels like sticking his head in the oven
It’s better talking to a lamppost or wall
At least with them they’ll listen to all
But they’ll never give you that needed reply
That you want so much, frustrated, you could cry
To hell with them, he thinks to himself
They’re on their own, they can stay on the shelf
He has a life to lead and things to experience
They can stay still whilst he gets serious
It’s just the frustration of the human race
And the way it controls with a two face
Just the frustration of the human race
Enough of the games, he has better grace
Caliburnus Rises 