Lyrics

Look at us men Fighting a war On several fronts Without and within Look at us men Fighting some war With all of the weapons That we have inherited From our fathers, from our brothers From our mothers, from ourselves Look at us men Fighting some war Brother We have got to find a way To get on top of our hurting The way we have taken our pain And made a church of it Call it coping Call it worship Raise our voices To the chorus The way we have taken our pain And fashioned it into a sonnet Recited at the summit of our damages Look at me, wicked and bad Big and broad chested The most twisted of the pretzels Proud of all my poisons Ignoring all the seeping Shoving all my feelings On high corners for safe keeping Is this your masculinity Or just your trauma speaking? Maybe you've said some Unfortunate things To yourself It's too late Your heart isn't in The right place And nobody wanna See your face In a site of grace But I'm telling you Brother that is far from the case You are loved You are valued The winds behind you are still strong And I know you're hurting And everyone's hurting And everyone's trying And you must try The sun still holds the sky But we are running out of time With the old same old same old Just isn't gonna fly In fact same old same old Has been the problem For a while, I mean What are you going to do? With all of your weapons And all of your hurting Comes to you as a song And you cannot deny the melody And you're undone by the words And all you can do Is hum?
Writer(s): Lorenzo Farolfi Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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