In the open air, honesty flows
Where real men, unbridled, let their tears compose
Amid the vastness emotion grows
Their tears, like rivers, sweept through valleys and throes
Under the sun’s gaze, in the noon’s bright light
Real men weep, an unashamed sight
Each tear a testament to strength’s own height
In the expansive fields of raw emotion’s might
Oh, let tears be sung
Real men cry, their hymn forever young
In the vast expanse, where emotions are wrung
Tears, are part of the song, ever unsung