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