Из альбома: Carry On Kid
Those who cry out sink to the floor.
The silent stand tall, but usually hurt more.
"'Tis true my form is something odd,
But blaming me is blaming God;
Could I create myself anew
I would not fail in pleasing you.
If I could reach from pole to pole
Or grasp the ocean with a span,
I would be measured by the soul;
The mind's the standard of the man." *
I see so many with confidence and shine. Do you feel like me?
Let me look in your eyes so I can see if your heart burns just like mine.
Don't bury what you hide from. We apply to overcome.
My tight rope turned to this train wreck. Undone.
I came a long way from home just to find I lost my way
And now the path back seems a lot longer than it did when I came.
Everything and everyone is so different around me
Or maybe I'm the one who's changed.
Something keeps this tired heart going.
It's in the darkest times, we find ourselves growing.
The mind's the standard of the man.
I surround myself with those who remind me of who I am.
[* adapted poem from Isaac Watts' "False Greatness" by Joseph Merrick]