Sometimes, rich means empty,
And popular’s still lonely,
And multitudes on multitudes
Are just the same as only
Sometimes, the beautiful are sad,
And tired rows the crewman,
For each of us is all of us,
And all of us
Are human
Other People's Feelings
Sometimes, rich means empty,
And popular’s still lonely,
And multitudes on multitudes
Are just the same as only
Sometimes, the beautiful are sad,
And tired rows the crewman,
For each of us is all of us,
And all of us
Are human