I Like a Man

I like a man with marks on his face,
who walks tall because the weight
of life couldn't beat him down.
He's still got some fight in him.
I like a man that stands and survives,
because there's no pain that could drive
the laughter out of him,
who never gives up and gives in.
Blood on his fists, he's beat out the shit,
he's taken his hits and respects it.
Torn and faded - but still good.
He's danced and not broken his stride.
He'll fight till he dies or he wins.