Think Fading Flesh.

It isn't always clear,
And it isn't always clean,
It isn't always fair,
And it isn't always right.
But it's always what you have to do.

Dream of me,
When the day is done,
Lay your weary head.
Dream of me,
When the night is young,
And the sunset is just dead.

What makes a man a man?
Is it his heart,
His mind,
His memories,
The strength in his arm?

What makes a man a man?

What makes me a man?