In between accusations and instances of legitimate wrong there lies something beyond. The "me" in this is not necessarily the person now striking the keys. Its application is deliberately broad.
Don't take yourself too seriously
There are precious few things worth hating nowadays,
And none of them are me
I was only trying to say how things used to be
'Til we grew up and we all went our separate ways
Looking for our own paths to immortality.
This is how I thought I'd start my song
And it seems a little silly when I think of it
But now I'm so far along
And no one really wants to know that he's wrong
That his ears can't really hear or he's blind a bit
Or that he's really weak when he thinks that he is strong
Now I'm in the middle and I just don't know
If I'll make it any further if the words don't flow
When you live in silence any sound is dear
But for those who don't, take heart because the end is near
This is the ending of my song
It has made me blind and deaf and weak but most of all
It shows you that I'm wrong
For you see it's really twice this long
And if I should die tomorrow it will carry on
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