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Standing at the threshold; all suited up in armor; Waiting to defend myself; in name sake of my honor. Out there are the hurtful ones; waiting for their chance They want a piece of flesh from me; in a careless happenstance. I’ve given way to doctrines; that take what’s in there path; But now they’re trying to come inside; and I will show them wrath. My right hands on my scepter; my left hands on my gun; I’m standing in the doorway there; telling them to come. Even though I may be hurt; I’m prepared to face them all And before this dance is over folks; they are many who will fall; Am I not allowed to- be myself; is there no where else they’ll go; When all is weighed and measured folks; I’m as good as them you know. This is where my spirit lives; and they have no right in here; That someone needs to teach them that; to that is very clear. I’m reminded of the jackals; how they scavenge for a meal; Waiting for a chance to grab; something they can steal I’m checking at my breastplate; it seems to fit just right; And my helmet doesn’t block my view; nor does it fit too tight. I really hate to do this; if they’d just leave me alone; Let my spirit rest in here; in this place I call its home.