Heros and Protestants. I mean, Evangelists.

In my recent metal conversion, I was given this band, Protest The Hero.
I don't think she knows how much I actually want to be a hero. You know, her hero.

I love the colors in her hair.
When I look to my own colors, I want to rip my own hair out.
But her skin glows.
I want to be big and strong for her,
that sort of hero she looks for in each boyish face.
I wish to lift tall buildings, airplanes,
and I wish to fly.
Maybe she would let me take her with me.
I do feel like I could fly when she smiles.