Forty and Still Fighting

[Verse 1]
He was twelve
Trash bag suitcase on the back seat
New last name
Same old empty in his chest
Learned to pack light
Learned to swing first
Take the hit
Seventeen
Judge said
"Son
You're grown now
That's it"
[Chorus]
Now he's forty and still fighting
Hands are heavy
Heart is tired
Built a castle out of anger
Raised two boys out of fire
Watches them sleep in the quiet
Feels the years like broken glass
He was a kid who never had one
Now he's a man who can’t outrun his past
[Verse 2]
Friday lights
Helmet hiding all the questions
Sunday nights
Ice on every aching bone
Cage door clanged
Crowd gone when the bruises faded
He kept swinging
Long after everyone went home
[Chorus]
Now he's forty and still fighting
Hands are heavy
Heart is tired
Built a castle out of anger
Raised two boys out of fire
Watches them laugh in the kitchen
Sees his younger self run past
He was a kid they kept on leaving
Now he's a man just trying not to crash
[Bridge]
He whispers
"I am sorry"
To the boy he never knew
To the mother in a memory
To the sons he once yelled through
"I missed birthdays
I missed first steps
Chased a battle
Not your eyes"
He holds their pictures in the hallway light
And finally lets himself cry (oh)
[Chorus]
Now he's forty and still fighting
But the war's a different kind
Trading punches for forgiveness
Learning gentler ways to try
Tucks them in
Turns out the hallway light
Vows to break that curse at last
He was a boy who had nobody
Now he's a dad who won’t repeat that past

Sparse indie-folk with male vocals, fingerpicked acoustic at the center and a soft, roomy kick on the low end. Verses stay intimate and close-mic’d, little breaths and string squeaks audible. Chorus blooms with warm pads and subtle piano doubles, plus a ghostly high harmony on key phrases. Bridge strips back to solo guitar, then final chorus returns with gentle tambourine and a lifted, bittersweet melodic arc., football, sad