Mr. Man Lyrics

He was incompetent because he could not bench press as much as his cohorts and peers. John was strong. He was a particularly fit individual. Beautiful and attractive: Even regarded by his fellow classmates for being so incredibly unique. But he just wasn't enough. He just didn't have the muscles. And if he didn't have the muscles, he probably didn't have the dick. And if he didn't have the dick, he probably wasn't a man at all.
But if he wasn't a man, what was he?
Some kind of "pussy"?
Some kind of "bitch"?
Some kind of "little girl"?
Or "wimp"?
Or "woos"?
He was just incompetent. He just wasn't enough.

John spent many hours, lying under his plush cotton covers, that swaddled his bed and his body. That lay in his room, that was in his parents three or four bedroom, twenty five year mortgage plan suburban home. John's father started to notice a change in his son's attitude, and felt that his recent submission to detrimental emotion was a sign of his weakness. John felt that his father's point of view was so similar to every one of his schoolmates.

"I can't take it"

One day, john had had enough. He couldn't take it anymore. He was fed up with the self-loathing, self-torture, and harsh judgment of his father and friends. John started to have violent feelings and decided to carry them out with rash actions. So he got out of his bed, and walked out of his room, and walked on down the hall. When he reached his father's gun closet, he quietly cracked the door, and pulled out his father's well-polished, well-cared for, nine millimeter pistol.

John had tasted gun powder for the first and last time.
He was dead.