When I was just a kid
everything I did was to be like him
under my skin
My father always thought
if I was strong and fought
not like some albatross I'd begin
to fit in
Look at me powerless
and holding my breath
trying hard to repress
what scared him to death
It was never easy to be his type of man
to breathe freely was not in his plan
and the best part of me
is what he wouldn't see
I'm not my fathers son
I'm not the image of
what he dreamed of
With the strength of Sparta
and the patience of Job
still couldn't be the one
to echo what he'd done
and mirror what was not in me
So I jumped in my dreams
and found an escape
maybe I went to extremes
of leather and lace
but the world seems brighter
six inches off the ground
and the air seemed lighter
I was profound and I felt so proud
just to live out loud
I'm not my fathers son
I'm not the image of
what he dreamed of
With the strength of Sparta
and the patience of Job
still couldn't be the one
to echo what he'd done
and mirror what was not in me
The endless story of expectations
swirling inside my mind
wore me down
I came to a realization and
I finally turned around
to see
that I could just be me
I'm not my fathers son
I'm not the image of
what he dreamed of
With the strength of Sparta
and the patience of Job
still couldn't be the one
to echo what he'd done
and mirror what was not in me