Room 4B

[Intro] A dot Teller Room 4B. Back row. Last seat They called it daydreaming I called it composing [Verse 1] Chalk dust in the air, twenty-six squares on the wall She said, "Eyes up front," in that slow teacher's drawl I nodded, kept composing — quiet, standing small Teacher talked loud, but I heard a rhythm through it all They called me space cadet, staring through the windowpane Not your teacher's pet — their judgment left no stain Built in silence, never let a single detail stray Rewriting the Roman alphabet in my own quiet way Teacher said, "Learn your letters, that's all you'll ever need" I kept quiet — let the lesson plant its seed No safety net below me — just the drive to make it real Just a quiet fire only I could feel Twenty-six letters on the board, I saw a different code Not a list to memorize, but bricks to build a road No medals in the classroom, no headlines in the hall Just a kid in the back row hearing the future through the wall [Hook] March to the ABCs, same letters, different beat Twenty-six small pieces learning how to groove Step by step, line by line, each letter found its feet You taught me what they were, I showed them how to move [Verse 2] Under the bed, a shoebox held my everything Cracked cassette player, rubber bands and bits of string Not the kind of setup the cool kids would forget But that busted little box became my first reset Every snippet like a signal, borrowed music from the air Radio ghosts in the speaker, humming low beside my chair My offline internet before the world could know my ways Learning the weight inside words through those back-row days Not your marionette, I cut the strings they never saw Same twenty-six letters, but they struck my chest with awe Taught twenty-six letters like they leaned beneath my breath They taught me static shapes, I made them come alive with breath Every morning I'd hit play, and yesterday lost its grip The boy they left to daydream had a whole world on that cassette strip Space cadet in Room 4B, the one they always got wrong Was composing all along, learning how to make a song [Bridge] They wrote the lesson on the board, I wrote mine on the beat Twenty-six little symbols learned to swing and hit their mark Every letter was a doorway, every word became a spark The kid they left to daydream built a language from the dark [Final Hook] March to the ABCs, same letters, different beat Twenty-six small pieces learning how to groove Step by step, line by line, each letter found its feet You taught me what they were, I showed them how to move [Outro] They saw a kid with no safety net, just a dream he held inside I turned the alphabet into a life they never thought they’d find A is for Alphabet And Alphabet… …is where every story begins