Have you ever seen a man in pieces?
Broken like a whisky glass on a stone floor?
Do you recognise the washed up boxer,
Covering up and waiting for the blow,
To show the world that's it's all over?
Well that was me, the fractured smashed up, bleeding, crying, washed up, passed-out reeling, stinking, broken coward yesterday.
I reached the point where all I wanted was a hole to crawl in, blunted, ashamed of all the things I'd done.
And then she looked at me and said,
What are you going to do?
Stay down there while they kick you black and blue?
Or will you stand up and look them in the eyes?
Hold your hand up and say 'I am alive?'
Today I will rise.