You speak in accents of affection
But never give your heart away
Are people coins in your collection?
And will you spend them all some day?
I'm vain enough to think that I could find a cure
For maladies your mind has made, but I'm not sure
You tell me how the friends you have are using you
Perhaps you feel that way because you do it too
You seem to thrive on complications
I have to smile when you complain
Do you invent these situations?
Is it your stars that are to blame?
I've heard that there are one or two who you've betrayed
You say that other hands upset the plans you made
I'm half afraid that knowing you may leave a scar
I wonder if you know yourself just who you are
published in "The Ballad of the Sad Young Men", 1975