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