His folks will tell ya, He's a mind like a sponge. Sharp as a tack, He's gonna make us proud. Somethin' stops him from taking that plunge, Somethin's held him back, Oh for crin' out loud.
So what's he waiting for, The world is at his door, And he turns to his ragged company. You'd think he'd see, These opportunities, It's like he is his own worst enemy.
With each transgression, There is an excuse. How could it be his fault. Someone else is to blame. An emotional recession, Disassociative views, Standing at a halt, His life is just a game.
Repeat Chorus
Oh poor lost boy
The years roll by, He's just standin' still, No lesson has been learned, And all his chances blown. He wonders why, Looks like he always will, His bridges have been burned, And he's left all alone.
