Hot Coals

I don't feel a thing

Walking on hot coals

No sensitivity in a fog of war

Try to unwind

To enjoy the good life

But the pressure that I hold

On my shoulders goes

I suspect the reason I am loved

Is because of how tight I'm holding on

Nowadays you're supposed to talk

Problems on and on

Whatever happened to the old -fashioned

Strong and silent type

What they didn't know is once you get us in

Touch with our feelings

You would never hear the end

Once you pull the pin

I suspect the reason I am loved

Is because of how tight I'm holding on

If I set you free, If I let go

Tell me would I still be the one you want

Even a broken clock

Is right twice a day

Even a busted lock

Can keep a thief away

He's not the type and soldiers

Don't go to hell

It's a place reserved for the

Twisted and evil

Now you ask how I'm feeling

I told you then

You're gonna torture me slowly with it

I am falling behind