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