They think he's a machine, but I swear he's not. He's just confused, Torn, And at his knees.
He's broken, Bloody, Confused at such a young age.
Look at him, Will you? Or are you too afraid to see what you did? You've torn down many like him. You've created a war, When there shouldn't have been.
But don't you dare confuse him with weak, He is a lot of things, Just not that.
He's a supporter of all things unhatful, And he is still just a machine right? All you see is his Stoic face and see his cold heart...
But is it really cold? You've broken his perfect form, And you can now see his puffy eyes and sunken in cheeks. He is a human, And he is me.