I'm still a virile male. |
I watch movies that make me weep, Behind closed doors unseen, When the mewling doesn't matter, Teardrops will wash me clean. I welcome those times to blubber, Not sure the logic why, Like a backward little school girl, I'll hide away and cry. Now, I'm as much a virile man, As you shall ever meet, Yet the way I sob and boohoo, Would knock you off your feet. I've found no good reason to change, Actually, I'm proud, But crying is a private thing, I'd rather not wail loud. After I've whimpered all I can, And dried up all the tears, I'll join my most manly men friends, And have a couple of beers. Women, I deeply love them so, I think I understand, The strong emotions they endure, I've felt it from firsthand. So don't you try to be my judge, And label me as frail, Even though I'll cry a river, I'm still a macho male.
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