I crawled behind; now I walk alone through the ashes of your life and the vacuum of your soul. You're every man I hated, and every man I loved. The sins of your father is died in my blood. And now I don't understand how to walk; how to walk like a man In the image of our father I stand accused of the Madonnas untouchable and the ones I've abused. It takes so much trust to let the tears roll down; the feelings explode when no-one else is around. I change what I can, but I still walk; I still walk like a man. The symbols, the buildings, the fast cars, the sex, the wet dreams, the smoky bars, the tasteless jokes, the resumes, the impossible request I took from your shoulders and put on my chest. And now I don't understand how to walk; how to walk like a man. Listen man, I know that I sound confused, but I can't let go of every role that I have ever refused. As my child grows in the womb of my mate, I pray it's not in the belly of my beast or the seed of my hate. I'll gently hold its hand, but I'll still walk like a man.
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