Troy, You Sold the Skyline

(Dry electric guitar. Worn tape hiss. Mid-tempo. Think Springsteen meets The National with a little Wilco bite.) Verse 1 He landed at el-eh-ex in mirrored shades, With daddy’s platinum card and thrift-store faith. Said, “I’m not buying what they bought for me. I’ll starve for art before I sell a dream.” A bungalow with six aspiring saints, Three busted amps and landlord’s fresh complaints. Every night he played like rent was due. Every morning rent was still the truth. Pre-Chorus Hollywood don’t break your heart. It sends you invoices. Chorus Troy, You came to conquer with a notebook full of noise. Now you’re selling Spanish stucco to divorced investment boys. You traded every masterpiece For square footage and escrow. Funny how a man can own the hills And never learn to let them go. Verse 2 She liked a man with polished shoes, Quarterly bonuses, predictable views. Love became a ledger balanced clean. One side receipts, the other side routine. Now he memorizes granite grades, School districts, permits, interest rates. Every open house another stage, Smiling through a carefully rehearsed cage. Pre-Chorus He says the city’s fake. The city’s heard that one before. Chorus Troy, You curse the kids with borrowed vans and cigarettes for hope. Call them parasites because they still believe the rope Can pull them somewhere higher Than another gated road. The man who couldn’t make the climb Now laughs at every soul who goes. Bridge (Everything drops except bass and snare.) Sometimes, after everyone’s asleep, He finds the songs inside an old hard drive. Clicks one. Stops it after eight bars. Like meeting the witness To your own disappearance. Final Chorus Troy, No dragon burned your kingdom down. No critics stole your name. You built your walls one compromise, One mortgage at a time. The skyline never beat you. It just waited till you blinked. There’s nothing sadder than a man Who hates the life he didn’t risk.