[Verse 1] I woke before the alarm rang, jaw tight, open eyes. Blue glow on the ceiling from a phone I didn’t like. One sock by the bedside, keys where they always stay. A calendar still waiting for the one from yesterday. I said, “I’m fine,” to the sink with my hand under the tap, but the words came back different, like a wire starting to snap. [Pre-Chorus] Nothing broke. Nothing burned. No hard goodbye. No table turned. Just a small thing in my chest would not button up and get dressed. [Chorus] Same morning, same sink, same light. Same mouth saying, “I’m alright.” Same old name, but it won’t sit right. Same clean lie in a sharper light. Nothing happened. Nothing broke. But I heard the crack in every word I spoke. Same morning. Same frame. Same line. I said I was fine — I heard the lie. [Verse 2] Toothpaste on my tongue, cold water on my skin. I watched myself get ready for a life that borrowed my face. Shirt over my shoulder, jacket on the chair. I kept moving through the morning like movement kept me there. I tied up my shoes for a place I didn’t choose, and the hallway light kept buzzing on the laces I pulled through. [Pre-Chorus 2] The key ring bit a mark into my palm. I held the day together, but it still came wrong. And something low beneath my skin said, “Not like this. Not again.” [Chorus] Same morning, same sink, same light. Same mouth saying, “I’m alright.” Same old name, but it won’t sit right. Same clean lie in a sharper light. Nothing happened. Nothing broke. But I heard the crack in every word I spoke. Same morning. Same frame. Same line. I said I was fine — I heard the lie. [Bridge] The bathroom fan kept spinning in its cheap electric prayer. My thumb woke up the screen just to prove I was still there. Password, jacket, keys, one more practiced face. Little things lined up to keep the old day in place. I wanted one more yesterday, one clean place to hide, but the morning didn’t save me — it found me still alive. [Final Chorus] Same morning, same sink, same light. Same mouth saying, “I’m alright.” Same old name, but it won’t sit right. Same clean lie in a sharper light. Nothing happened. Nothing broke. But I heard the crack in every word I spoke. Same morning. Same frame. Same line. I said I was fine — I heard the lie. [Outro] Nothing opened. Nothing closed. Not yet a fire. Not yet a road. Just something in me leaned toward the unknown and would not stay low.
