[Instrumental Intro] [Soft piano, low pulse, distant guitar] [Verse 1] The universe owes me no miracle— no fire, no parting sea. I’ve prayed with splinters in my palms, building wings from what broke me. Kept a notebook under my pillow, failures, names, and dates. Made a diagram of every bruise, gave every scar a shape. [Pre-Chorus] Whenever the ground rose up to meet me, I wrote what falling knew: There is mercy in the measure, there’s a door inside a bruise. [Chorus] The universe owes me no mercy, just matter, force, and time. But gravity has rules here— every fall can teach me flight. I don’t ask the dark for favors, I don’t ask the stars to lie. Give me the law, give me the fall— I’ll learn how to fly. [Verse 2] I taped my failures to the window, watched them shake in morning blue. Every broken little feather held a map I never knew. There were nights I cursed the ceiling, days I kissed the floor. The body learns in pieces what the soul was reaching for. [Pre-Chorus] Let the doubters call it madness, let the angels pass me by. I have made a church of trying, I have made a vow to rise. [Chorus] The universe owes me no mercy, just matter, force, and time. But gravity has rules here— every fall can teach me flight. I don’t ask the dark for favors, I don’t ask the stars to lie. Give me the law, give me the fall— I’ll learn how to fly. [Bridge] Maybe heaven is the lesson that the body learns in time. If I break, I’ll break with data. If I bleed, I’ll bleed with light. There are names for every darkness. There are ways to build a sky. [Final Chorus] The universe owes me no mercy, just matter, force, and time. But gravity has rules here— every fall can teach me flight. I don’t need a miracle, I don’t need the stars aligned. Give me the law, give me the fall— I’ll still learn how to fly.
