# BORROWED BONES [Genre:"Progressive art-metal / polyrhythmic alternative metal"] [Tone:"Claustrophobic, cerebral, ritualistic, quietly defiant → explosive"] [Instrumentation:"D minor, 104 BPM, 7/8 verses, 5/4 pre-chorus, 6/8 choruses, 11/8 instrumental spiral, drop-D bass ostinato, tom-led drums, muted guitar coils, dissonant harmonics, one close-mic male vocal"] [Intro — 7/8, bass and floor tom] Count the joints. Test resistance. Watch the tendon answer first. I woke inside a borrowed posture, teeth already set to brace. [Verse 1 — 7/8] Seven rules above the washroom, paper curled, adhesive brown. Shoulders level. Lower volume. Finish swallowing. Look down. Cutlery aligned at eight sharp. Every answer sanded plain. The lesson never needed shouting— muscle memorized the strain. I kept measuring the chamber, seven steps and half a turn. Found a fault inside the pattern: one delay it couldn’t learn. There— beneath the measured breathing, half a second past the cue, my hand remained against the tabletop. Nothing made it move. [Pre-Chorus — 5/4] If the reflex starts before me, which decision bears my name? If I hold it one beat longer, does obedience stay the same? [Chorus — 6/8, guitars widen] These are borrowed bones, but the movement is mine. You can set the first position— you cannot finish the design. When your order reaches muscle, I can hold my wrist one count. I arrived here preassembled— but one second stayed unowned. [Verse 2 — 7/8 → 4/4] Moved the chair out of its crater— four round dents across the floor. Sat with both hands on the table, back turned toward the nearest door. Held the cup in my left fingers. Let the wrong hand lift the weight. Such a small defective motion— still, the room appeared to wait. No alarm. No sudden verdict. Only pipes behind the paint. First refusal barely audible, but the tendon knew its shape. Pain returned without a halo: site, intensity, duration. Just the nerve reporting damage— not a moral obligation. [Instrumental Spiral — 11/8] [Muted guitar cycles against a five-note bass figure] [Drums displace the downbeat every second measure] [Full-band stop] [Close whisper] You mistook repetition for truth. [Bridge — 9/8, restrained vocal] Read the rule without obeying. Hear its rhythm. Miss the mark. Feel the jaw prepare the answer. Hold it. Let it pass. I am not the first contraction when an old command comes through. I am every interruption between impulse and what I do. [Instrumental Rupture — 7/8] [Bass and kick strike seven descending accents] [One empty measure] [Breakdown — slow 4/4] Square the shoulders. Open both hands. Let the molars part on four. Let their ruler call it crooked— I won’t straighten anymore. [Final Chorus — 6/8, screamed doubles] THESE ARE BORROWED BONES, BUT THE MOVEMENT IS MINE. YOU CAN SET THE FIRST POSITION— YOU CANNOT FINISH THE DESIGN. WHEN YOUR ORDER REACHES MUSCLE, I CAN HOLD MY WRIST ONE COUNT. I ARRIVED HERE PREASSEMBLED— BUT ONE SECOND STAYED UNOWNED. [Half-time extension] You taught the flinch. You marked the posture. You rehearsed me to the bone. But I found the missing second— and I will not leave here owned. [Outro — returns to 7/8] Count the joints. Change one motion. Let the old instruction fail. The body was inheritance. The next move is not.
