I can only hope
To become half the man
My father is

I don't want these burns
These cuts
These broken words

Cause they uppercut
My upper-hand
And I don't think

The world will understand

How I stumble

Stumble
The world won't understand
Why I crumble, down.



I saw the face of man,

The affivavit and
The saturated hands.
I hate myself,

Myself
All over again.



So Why should I become
The better man my father is?


I stumble
Stumble

The world won't understand
Just why I crumble
Far from wonderful.