NOT YOUR TYPE

You have seen me fall and rise again without any complaints; some say he is sure as hell no Jesus and will never be any goddamn saint. Some of you shake my hand without looking at the color of my eyes. Some say I'm not your type of man. Maybe it's because I take no shit and speak the truth well. A man can only take so much. It's time I lay this burden down.

My hands are dirty with years of hard work that I can not call my own. Now, times are getting tough, and I have had enough. I'm starting to realize that I stand alone in this battle, and that's fine with me, as I never asked for any help.

I'm not their type because I think they padlock outside the box. Well, I found a way out as I was kicking and shouting you keep me drugged on false hope, and you can not climb my wings or silence my song. I will continue to fly I will continue to sing.