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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.

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