My body is so crap at staying true

To my will and the way

That I'd like to be

My father's fist is a brick in my heart

As my face speckled with hormones

My mouth closed in retreat

I mistreated my poor bones

And felt the warm hand of defeat

A tip-tap of the finger

A heavy drop of the sigh

I though then I held back

The shutting shut of an eye

My body is so crap at staying true

To my will and the way

That I would like to be

Scars on my body

Are testing the value of time

But I am a grown man

And to touch is a personal crime

It never gets easy the sense

And the tension compete

As a grown man I'm useless

Oh but I'm driven by the fear

Scars on my body

Are testing the value of time

But I am a grown man

And to touch is a personal crime

It never gets easy the sense

And the tension compete

As a grown man I'm useless

Oh but I'm driven by the fear

My body is so crap at staying true

To my will and the way

That I would like to be