Pent up heart, father of stone
Fortified with muscle, stuck in baritone
Glimpses in mirrors, a shell he doesn't recognize
Reverberating with calls from a child inside
Let me cry
Like I did when I was five
Before the well ran dry
Manning up, winning the bread
C pressure cooker, coming to a head
Indoctrinated against moving his hips
For fear that it could attract another man's lips
Let me cry
Like I did when I was five
Before the well ran dry
C voice to listen to
Left behind in your youth
What kind of man were you
Before the well ran dry