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Description
he is the kind of boy who has gun callouses and has never gone bowling
who can gut a fish and wouldn't know a children's tv show if it bit him

he is the kind of boy who is not a boy
has never really been a boy
has been cleaning up his parent's messes
telling lies to the people who should be protecting him
and shouldering the weight of all this responsibility
he shouldn't even know exists since before he knew how to count to ten

he is the kind of boy who only looks like a boy
and even then it's only in the right light, only when he's sleeping
only when he's smiling, he is the kind of boy who never smiles and means it
only ever smiles to reassure people who ask too many questions
that's he's alright, really, he's doing just fine, they don't need any help

he is the kind of boy who spent his birthdays being taught how to shoot
he taught his little brother how to shoot
and he is the kind of boy who could tell you a pack of lies
so convincing even he would start to believe himself

he is the kind of boy with gun callouses on his fingers
and no idea how to hold a skipping rope
and he is defined by everything he shouldn't be
by the weight of the world on his shoulder's
all the promises he has to keep and all the lies he has had to tell
and every question he knows not to ask any more

he is the kind of boy who is not a boy
not any more, never really got a chance,
he's doing just fine, he swears, he promises,
he is the kind of boy who looks so sincere
when he's crossing his fingers behind his back,
he looks so sincere when he promises, he never really got a chance

he has gun callouses and bullet wound scars
and blood forever underneath his fingernails
and death hanging over him like a cloud
he is the kind of boy you only ever see once,
in back alleys and motel rooms
and the back seat of a car as it speeds past you on the highway

he is the kind of boy who is not a boy, has never been a boy,
but he tries so hard and he gets so close and he looks so sincere

Description
he is the kind of boy who has gun callouses and has never gone bowling
who can gut a fish and wouldn't know a children's tv show if it bit him

he is the kind of boy who is not a boy
has never really been a boy
has been cleaning up his parent's messes
telling lies to the people who should be protecting him
and shouldering the weight of all this responsibility
he shouldn't even know exists since before he knew how to count to ten

he is the kind of boy who only looks like a boy
and even then it's only in the right light, only when he's sleeping
only when he's smiling, he is the kind of boy who never smiles and means it
only ever smiles to reassure people who ask too many questions
that's he's alright, really, he's doing just fine, they don't need any help

he is the kind of boy who spent his birthdays being taught how to shoot
he taught his little brother how to shoot
and he is the kind of boy who could tell you a pack of lies
so convincing even he would start to believe himself

he is the kind of boy with gun callouses on his fingers
and no idea how to hold a skipping rope
and he is defined by everything he shouldn't be
by the weight of the world on his shoulder's
all the promises he has to keep and all the lies he has had to tell
and every question he knows not to ask any more

he is the kind of boy who is not a boy
not any more, never really got a chance,
he's doing just fine, he swears, he promises,
he is the kind of boy who looks so sincere
when he's crossing his fingers behind his back,
he looks so sincere when he promises, he never really got a chance

he has gun callouses and bullet wound scars
and blood forever underneath his fingernails
and death hanging over him like a cloud
he is the kind of boy you only ever see once,
in back alleys and motel rooms
and the back seat of a car as it speeds past you on the highway

he is the kind of boy who is not a boy, has never been a boy,
but he tries so hard and he gets so close and he looks so sincere