I'm a man of many faces
I've carved out over time
I carry them around with me
Some that make me sigh…

Usually I'll leave it up to others
How it is they set the mood
The way we inner act
To what face it is I choose

I have a face I use for concern
One I have that looks deep in thought
I'm still working on the one that looks like love
But I'm not sure I'll use it a lot

I've got one that's fairly happy
It's taken years to carve it out
Five different ones in stages of sadness
Two that are riddled with doubt

I hold onto one that no longer fits me
I haven't worn in quite some time
It's the face that I was born with
The innocence of a child

One I've carved over and over
Cause I wear it out all the time
It's the one with the look of disbelief
When it gazes on the state of mankind

I have a face with which I greet strangers
One I use with friends
Also a face that says I'm sorry
If I need to make amends

But there is one I don't carry with me
The face I leave at home
For when I lock my door at night
It's the face I call alone…
—Stranger on bus 52