Real Men Don't Cry

Real men don't cry,

real men don't bend real men don't need anybody,

real men don't need a friend I was built from leather and

thunder, I was built to never break Real men don't cry!

That's a line I'll never cross,

that's a line I'll never shake

Real men don't cry!

Real men don't cry!

Not me, not ever,

not when, not why! (yeah-eah)

Not for ANYTHING, not for ANY reason,

not for—

...my plant died.

The one I've had since the tour started.

I named him Steve.

Steve was doing

so well.

I talked to him every day,

I know that's not weird,

plants like being talked to,

that's SCIENCE

and I left him with my cousin for one weekend

and now Steve is just—

he's just gone, he's just a stick now

Real men

don't cry,

except apparently over a fern named Steve,

who I failed, who trusted me,

who had ONE job

which was staying alive

and I had ONE job which was

keeping him that way

My cousin said "it's just a plant"

and I haven't spoken to her since,

respectfully

some things you don't say to a man who is actively vibrating

with grief,

respectfully

Real men don't cry

— I don't believe that anymore,

and also I'm buying a new fern tomorrow

and this one's getting a security camera,

I'm not losing another Steve,

I refuse to know that sorrow

Real men...

do cry...

RIP Steve...