Verse 1 Tickets in a spiral, red on my wrist, Spent a whole summer proving I exist. Glass-eyed toys behind plastic glare, Cost me a thousand tries to breathe that air. Clerk says, “Pick,” with a bored, kind smile— Truth stands taller in the cheap aisle. Pre-Chorus What if the prize is not the proof, Not the weight of every move? What if one soft living thing Outvalues all this counting? Chorus Pocket full of winners— Trade ’em for one real thing. Let the numbers whisper— I want what I can bring. Pocket full of winners— I lay them down and sing: Take the velvet myth, I’m done— Give me breath and skin. Verse 2 Photo on the wall of some perfect grin, Rigged little ring toss teaching me to spin. I choose a goldfish with a paper bag sea, A heart with needs is rarer to me. We walk it home like a borrowed star, Small and true beats big and far. Pre-Chorus What if the proof is that I choose, Not all the times I didn’t lose? Chorus Pocket full of winners… Bridge (phone-voice, filtered) “Congratulations”—static shakes— “You’ve learned the trade a heart makes.” Unbandpass bloom: I exhale light— One small prize holds the night. Final Chorus Pocket full of winners— Trade ’em for one real thing… Tag Bag crinkles. Water shines. I’m fine.
