| There’s a fire in my heart, but I’ve got blood in my mouth
|
| Tongue caged by my teeth, trying hard just to speak
|
| But your shout has got me beat and I’m rusting
|
| I’m rusting
|
| And my mother always told me
|
| «Tread lightly», «don't step on his toes»,
|
| And that was okay at a young age
|
| But I am fully grown
|
| Suit and tie at the table
|
| Another disappointment
|
| I’ll stay quiet, still unstable
|
| I’ll swallow the poison
|
| 'Cause I am not who you were at nineteen
|
| I am not the man you want me to be
|
| I’m not a warrior, I am fragile, I am weak
|
| I’m not a warrior, I am not you, I’m barely me
|
| Someday I hope to make it clear to you
|
| That success is not determined by leather bound books and ink on paper,
|
| But rather the passion that I have found out of heartbreak and anger.
|
| I know that happiness is stability, but stability is not a desk job.
|
| And I refuse to sacrifice my aspirations
|
| For an income and security. |
| What the hell is «security»?
|
| See, I’d rather die at my fullest. |
| Poor, but free to roam,
|
| Than let an office drain me slowly for the sake of a home.
|
| Cause I watched your endless intermission,
|
| An actor trapped in mediocrity.
|
| Gave up on your ambitions, and your convictions compared to mine —
|
| What a rigid dichotomy
|
| 'Cause I am not who you were at nineteen
|
| I am not the man you want me to be
|
| I’m not a warrior, I am fragile, I am weak
|
| I’m not a warrior, I am not you
|
| I am not who you were at nineteen
|
| I am not the man you want me to be
|
| I am not, I am not
|
| I am not my father’s son |