[Cold Open — Voice Alone, Intimate] My mother pressed my palm against the floor. “Tell me what the house is holding.” I counted footsteps. I counted chairs. She said— “Lower.” [One Deep Bass Pulse] “Know what holds you. Know what you hold. Know the difference between a root and a chain.” [Verse 1 — Low Ritual Pulse] The room leaned toward the empty chair. Every photograph faced my way. They laid their sorrow on the table like a beam they thought I’d brace. No one asked me for an answer. No one named the weight aloud. They only cleared a place beside it and waited for me to hold it up. [Pre-Chorus — Pressure Building] I know what weight does. I know where old floors start to bow. I know the sound before a fault gives. I could hear it in the silence now. [Chorus — Heavy, Controlled] Not mine— though I know how to hold it. Not mine— though I know exactly what it weighs. I know what I can carry. That doesn’t make it mine. Ask me. Don’t assign me. Not mine. [Verse 2 — Pulse Withdraws, Voice Closer] [Chorus II — Wider, More Human] Not mine— and still I choose to hold it. Not mine— they asked me for my hands. I know what I can carry. That still doesn’t make it mine. They asked me. I am answering. This weight— I choose. [Bridge — Percussion Gathering] My mother showed me roots. They handed me a chain. Both were called inheritance. Only one knew my name. [Breakdown — Full Ritual Eruption] I WILL NOT CONFUSE CAPACITY WITH CONSENT. I WILL NOT CALL A CHAIN A ROOT AGAIN. [Final Chorus — Massive but Deliberate] Not mine— and I choose to hold it. Not mine— and I choose to stay. I know what I can carry. I know exactly what it weighs. You asked me. I am answering. Not mine— but I choose it. [End — Floor-Deep Pulse, Then Silence]
