Strong

Each day I rise, gird up my loins, and head into the battle...
Robed in the armor of my sex; I'm strong and noble, proud and brave.
There is no damsel I can't save. No war that I can't win. No slaves, no chattel...
They're all free. And yes, you can thank me. For I am man, I win the battle.

Each day I fly; underneath me pass, the gaze of the smokestacks...
Hid by my flight, a sight to stay unseen. Hungry eyes and broken stares...
I fly to boardrooms, Paris, Chairo... I never watch the downward spiral, or the shacks...
Of those I fly o'er... Never mind that, it's just prattle; there are no slave; no broken chattel, they've fallen down the cracks.

Each day the flames burn higher, higher, every day now, higher higher..
But my friends are all inspired by the TV, sports, and highlights, sex and drugs, power and money.
Anything to let them flee me. Screams they never see; they see me, out the corner of their eyes like spiders.
Nothing breaks my mask it's certain, yes you can thank me, only watch the show, never mind the curtain, or the man that takes you higher.