In my house, I find that those with hard hearts, they burden me with their contempt
I can not bring myself to love as I should
No
Stomachs turn
Every kind word must be earned with an act
I am not spoken to as a man and my heart, it plots
I can feel the weight of a practiced prayer miles away
The fear that I must have an enemy to motivate is all too real
But have I found my enemy in myself, or in others that see their own weaknesses in my work?
They have no worth
The door will strike on the way out if the right questions are asked
Somewhere there is a catalog of my failures
It is held by men and I do not hold any sway
Knowing this, it has sharpened my tongue to that of an expert
I serve better as a buffer than I did as a brother
I allowed authority over myself that [was] meant to guard my heart as a lion
And in turn move not
I chose to prepare for pain and follow it to its ruin
To my ruin
Promise to not let me get comfortable