  In the morning your pain sensitizes me for the day, already a failure before breakfast. &nbsp; We are admired for the pain we deny existence.&nbsp; Believing it doesn't hurt, earns us medals.
&nbsp; Push past the wall; play through the pain.&nbsp; Give voice to the primal; scream the pain away. &nbsp; On the battlefield, on the playing field, the dead have more to give. Pick that man up, dust him off, and send him out again. &nbsp; You and I do this everyday; it is an old, old idea that every step should ache. And it gets older every day. &nbsp; Push past the wall; play through the pain.
Give voice to the devil; yell the pain away. &nbsp; Your brain will explode from a lifetime of pain. The flesh will decay as you lay in your grave. &nbsp; The soul is blinded by hurt. But embedded in your stone will be gold-plate medals. &nbsp; Push past the death; play through the pain. Give voice to the hurt; cry the pain away. 
