The Champ

They set the chair in the light

Asked him what it all was for

Awards, money, or the fame

He looked down at the floor

He said, "I learned to take a hit

When the world got rough and mean

So I kept on standing up

For the ones they never see"

He spoke so low

Like a prayer in a ring

Not for the gold

Not for the shine of a thing

For the quiet ones

For the quiet ones

For the ones who can't

For the quiet ones

For the broken hands

For the ones unheard

He risked his life

For ones that could not

He had scars like a road map

On his knuckles and his jaw

But he wore them like a badge

Not like the world he saw

And every bell that ever rang

Was a name he couldn't say

A brother on the edge of gone

A child who needed strength that day

He spoke so low

But the room stood still

Not for a name

Just to carry the will

For the quiet ones

For the quiet ones

For the ones who can't

For the quiet ones

For the broken hands

For the ones unheard

He risked his life

For the ones that could not

Now the cameras fade to black

But the reason stays alive

In a rented room, in a roadside church

In the heart that learns to fight

If you ask me what he was

I won't say champ or king

He was a door held open wide

He was mercy in the ring

For the quiet ones

For the quiet ones

For the ones who can't

For the quiet ones

For the broken hands

For the ones unheard

He risked his life

For the ones that could not

For the quiet ones

For the quiet ones

He was fighting

For the quiet ones