"I wouldn't call it a song" of Myself.

I’ve a father like a broken record
A dusty vinyl to a needle
He keeps repeating himself on and on again
As he gets old and it gets old.

I’ve a mother who I can’t really say
I know well enough to love
But I love her more than I love my dad
Who I know even less.

I’ve a brother who I wanted to be
For reasons I never knew
But I grew older and more cynical
And he grew more human every time I saw him.

I've friends who I know I don't deserve
But who don't know who I am
Because I'm different around each of them
And they're all different around me.

I’ve a mind that’s warmer than it seems
And cloudy as an autumn day
As the wind blows I grow colder
And catch people unawares.

And this mind of mine asks questions
To which no answers can be found,
But the funny thing is, it seems to me
I never ask questions about myself.