David Thomas Broughton - Staying True lyrics

My body is so crap at staying true, To my will and the way 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 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