[Frantic turntable scratch, heavy syncopated bass groove, driving drum beat] [Verse 1 - Mike Shinoda style rapid staccato rap, punchy delivery] Spun the wagon. Slick black tar. Skated through the ditch. Without an engine scar. Left shoe missing. Right hand shaking. Counting up the promises. We kept breaking. Rolled the dice. On a three-cent bet. Collector hasn't tracked us. Hasn't found us yet. Pocket full of gravel. Bent brass coin. Patching up the fractures where the girders join. [Beat Drop, isolated bassline] [Pre-Chorus - Rising distorted guitar, urgent vocal tension] We had no compass. We had no map. Crawled clean out of an iron trap. Don't ask the captain how we got this far. Just chased down a falling star! [Explosive wall of guitars, Chester Bennington style soaring strained chorus] [Chorus] It wasn't the plan! It wasn't the skill! It wasn't the mountain that we learned to drill! We survived the drop by an inch of muck! Nothing in the tank but sheer dumb luck! Yeah, sheer luck! Breathing in the morning sun! [Aggressive turntable scratch solo, heavy drop-D guitar chug] [Verse 2 - Accelerated rap flow, shifting stereo pans, aggressive tone] Jumped from the ledge. Concrete cracked through. Landed in the alleyway. Out of the blue. Dodging every bullet. Gust of wind. Brushing off the chalk marks. Where we sinned. Nobody writes manuals. For idiot grace. Tripping up the stairs to a winning place. Analyze the strategy. Legal pads. While we're out trading with the nomads. [Snare roll build, heavy palm-muted guitars] [Pre-Chorus] We had no compass. We had no map. Crawled clean out of an iron trap. Don't ask the captain how we got this far. Just chased down a falling star! [Maximum nu-metal energy, crashing cymbals, massive vocal belt] [Chorus] It wasn't the plan! It wasn't the skill! It wasn't the mountain that we learned to drill! We survived the drop by an inch of muck! Nothing in the tank but sheer dumb luck! Yeah, sheer luck! Breathing in the morning sun! [Half-time breakdown, heavy syncopated drums, low pulsing bass] [Bridge - Rapid rhythmic whisper trading into feral screams] No science. No logic. No method in the madness. Crooked lane running through the sadness. (Tripped on the wire!) Landed on our feet! (Tripped on the wire!) Empty street! HOW DID WE MAKE IT? DON'T ASK TWICE! ROLL THAT PAIR OF LOADED DICE! GO! [Chaotic alternative metal guitar riff, wild turntable cuts] [Absolute peak stadium climax, double-tracked screamed harmonies] [Chorus] It wasn't the plan! It wasn't the skill! It wasn't the mountain that we learned to drill! We survived the drop by an inch of muck! Nothing in the tank but sheer dumb luck! Yeah, sheer luck! Breathing in the morning sun! [Syncopated drum and bass groove gradually slowing down, vocal panting] [Outro] By an inch. By a hair. Floating on a cushion of empty air. Sheer luck. [Turntable backspin, Sudden Cut]
