Brother

Brother, we have to find a way to get on top of hurting The way we take our pain and make a church of it Call it coping, call it worship Raise your voices to the chorus The way we've taken our pain Fashioned it into a sonnet Sing it at the summit of our damages I mean, look at me, look at me Wicked and bad Big and broad-chested The most twisted of the pretzels Proud of all my poisons I'm paying no mind to the seeping And shoving all my feelings Into dark corners For the safekeeping I don't have no weaknesses, I don't show no weakness I don't have no weaknesses, I don't show no weakness I don't have no weaknesses, I don't show no weakness I don't have no weaknesses, I don't show no weakness I don't have no weaknesses, I don't show Is this your masculinity Or just your trauma speaking then? Who can tell at this point? It's a blend Maybe you have said some unfortunate things to yourself, huh Some cruel and unfortunate, lruel and unfortunate things Like, "It's too late, your heart isn't in the right place Nobody wanna see your face" But I have been there, brother, and that is far from the case You are loved, you are valued, you belong The winds behind you are still strong I said you are loved, you are valued, you belong The winds behind you are still strong, huh I know you're hurting, everybody's hurting Everybody's trying, you have got to try I know you're hurting, everybody's hurting Everybody's trying, you have got to try What you gonna do? All of your weapons, all of your hurting Goes back to you as a song, and you cannot deny the melody You are undone by words, and all you can do is hum Mm