(Verse 1) I keep strange little boxes Inside the back of my mind, Half-built roads and systems That never stay in line. A sentence with the hinges loose, A map without a shore, A bug that only shows itself When I close the door. There’s coffee going colder, Sticky notes in uneven stacks, A dozen tiny questions Walking circles in my tracks. And people think the magic part Is when the thing is done But I like the scattered fragments Before they become one. (Pre-Chorus) That quiet little click, Like a key inside a lock, When the shape finally turns After staring at the rock. (Chorus) I love the turning of the gears, The hidden thread beneath the seams, The way a broken piece can suddenly Explain a hundred things. Not the finish line, not applause, Not having all the answers first Just the moment something breathes alive Inside the tangled work. (Verse 2) A character starts arguing With choices I designed, A city gains a heartbeat I never meant to find. The code stops fighting back at me, The dialogue lands right, And all the disconnected wires Begin to hold the light. Sometimes it takes an evening, Sometimes half a year, Sometimes I solve the problem By walking out of here. Because answers don’t come louder When you corner them with force, Sometimes they wait politely For you to change the course. (Pre-Chorus) So I flip the thing sideways, Let the pressure fall apart, And somewhere in the background The pattern starts to spark. (Chorus) I love the turning of the gears, The hidden thread beneath the seams, The way a broken piece can suddenly Explain a hundred things. Not perfection, not control, Not proving I was always right Just watching disconnected stars Arrange themselves at night. (Bridge) Maybe that’s why I keep building, Even when it gets absurd. Tiny worlds with stubborn edges, Folders full of restless words. Because every locked direction Holds another way to see, And every puzzle leaves behind A newer version of me. (Final Chorus) So let me sit a little longer With the wires in my hands, With unfinished thoughts still humming Like electric little plans. I don’t need the easy answer, I don’t need the perfect view I just love the quiet moment When the pieces let me through. (Outro) One more line. One more turn. One more lantern left to burn. And somewhere underneath the noise… Something fits.
