[Intro] Yeah… been stuck so long the walls calling my name. Every step I take just loops back like the floor’s replaying the same. But I’m still here… even with the ground pulling. [Verse 1] I’m running laps inside a cage I hammered shut with my own fear, tight screws, loose fights, stacked failures in the corner near. Every dream I tried to keep alive got crushed by my delay, like strength only visits me and dips before it wants to stay. Doubt yanks the strings again whenever I try to speak, and the silence in my head grows thick, week after week. I’m locked in place like a puppet with a thread that's close to snapping, dragging ghosts behind me that I never chose to carry, never asked ’em. If I dropped right now — tell me, would it shake the ground? ’Cause every move just throws me in the same damn circle ’round. Round and round… a puppet in a cycle that won’t let go, wearing me down. [Chorus] Pick me up or let me fall — I’ve been quiet far too long. Paper armor round my chest breaks when you say my name wrong. And if I’m fading harder than I did the day before, don’t stare like it’s new. I was frozen while the world kept spinning straight through me, without a clue. [Verse 2] I cut the rope once — it crawled back like it owned my spine, tightened every breath until the clock stopped marking time. “Maybe it’ll shift,” I say — but nothing moves, nothing listens, only my breathing sets the rhythm while the same fear glistens. Trapped in a picture frame that shrank around my bones for years, edges carving at my shape, layer by layer, till it disappears. I’m locked in place like a puppet with a thread that's close to snapping, dragging ghosts behind me that I never chose to carry, never asked ’em. If I dropped right now — tell me, would it shake the ground? ’Cause every move just throws me in the same damn circle ’round. Round and round… a puppet in a cycle that won’t let go, wearing me down. [Bridge] If I fall, don’t lift me just to drop me where I stood before — sometimes start walking strait ahead alone opens the better door. And if I get back up: don’t call it luck, fate, or design — I’m breaking this loop myself… even if the whole damn line snaps in time. [Verse 3] People wind me up like a toy, never hearing when the gears misfire, they catch the moment, not the hard work, and call it desire. I laughed through with tears just to fake that I still function somehow, but the fractures got names now — and I’m done dragging them around. The loop talks louder than me, yeah, feels warm at first — but it ain’t home, just a wooden box carved from my own hurt. Still, I reach out even when my hands shake like they’re made of glass, even when the world bends so sharp it cuts the path I’m walking past. I drag the weight of silent days sticking to me like tar, but now I torch the script that trapped me — don’t care what the reasons are. If I stand again, it’s ’cause I chose to rise, not from strings pulled tight — I’m learning to move without ’em, in the dark, out of sight. [Outro] Still stuck in place like a puppet on a thread that's barely hanging, carrying the past I never asked for, pulled down by everything ir‘s dragging. But if I hit the ground this time — I’ll make the whole thing sound, ’cause I’m done spinning in circles I never chose… I’m tearing them down.
