Look at me,
And tell me who I am.
Why I am
What I am.

Call me a fool,
And it's true I am.
I don't know
Who I am.

I've done so much – everything from before my mother left to now – that I don't know who I am anymore. I'm such a fool to think that I could actually do something with my life, so if you call me a fool, you wouldn't bee telling a lie.

It's such a shame,
I'm such a sham.
No one knows
Who I am.

It's a shame that I'm putting on a show for the people I love, that I'm such a sham. It's only because I don't know who I am. No one knows.

Am I the face of the future?
Am I the face of the past?
Am I the one who must finish last?

Am I someone who, when looked at, represents the future, or am I someone who represents the past? Am I the one who ends everything long after everyone else has?

Look at me,
And tell me who I am,
Why I am
What I am.

Will I survive?
Who will give a damn,
If no one knows
Who I am?

Will I be able to survive when – no, not when; if – Herbie leaves? Will I be able to survive when Louise leaves? I did when June left, didn't I? But who will care if I keep going on or if I die, if no one knows who I am?

Nobody knows -
Not even you -
No one knows who I am...