Laurence Overmire - The Making Of A Man lyrics

The masculine, my lad Is not the bombast of foolish braggadocio Nor the flexing of unwarranted muscle The brutal crush of an innocent No, the masculine is The glint of the sword, sheathed yet Ready to defend With honor and dignity Those who would be trespa**ed The strength of steel running Through the marrow of the heart Capable of great tenderness The deepest kind of compa**ion The life blood that flows from a Wounded thigh The wellspring of All humanity.