I’m not superman.
Fuck that
Guy in red tights afraid of little green rocks
I’m a different sort of hero
One with no power of my own
No magic hammer or horn
No power to feed the masses
Or heal the sick
I’ll never fly like Superman,
Fight like Batman
Swing free like Spiderman
Go into a rage like the Hulk
I’ll never paint like D’Vinicci
Sculpt like Michael Angelo
Write like Tolstoy
Or make music like Beethoven
I’ll never heal like Jesus
Transcend like Buddha
Walk through heaven like Mohamed
Or wrestle daevas like Zoroaster
I am weak, and humbled by life
I fear bullets and snakes,
I give in to temptation
My head and heart are human
I am weak and mortal
Too fragile for this world
In the darkness I cry out
And I am too frightened to hear a reply
Then I reach my hand to God
Through his touch I can do anything
Through his grace I can heal the sick
In his arms I know love and have love to give
I’m a different sort of hero
One with no power of my own