Black and White

[Intro] Look. History decides who’s right. Power decides who’s heard. And somewhere in between, the truth gets buried. So what happens when you stop taking it at face value? When you actually look between the lines? Yeah… let’s talk about that. [Verse 1] I’m dissecting the dogma, looking through a distorted lens Where the hero wears a halo but he’s stabbing all his friends And the villain - he’s a victim of a system built on spite Trading pieces of his soul just to survive another night. We distort it, twist the story just to make it fit the page Turn a devil to a deity in a disenchanted age Mercy gets weaponized as a collateral offense, Building false kingdoms at a character’s expense. Was it justice or a judgment? A passion or a ploy? The narratives we tailor just to label and destroy. Now the nuance is a phantom in the hallways of the mind, Leaving every moral code effectively blind. [Chorus] In a black and white world, I’ve been trying to decide If I’m living as a truth or just a well-disguised lie Is it wrong, is it right? I’ve been losing sleep at night Watching every piece of me get split and justified Standing in the middle where the lines are misaligned And the closer that I look, the more they’re harder to define [Verse 2] I read a book of history, the pages soaked in bias Just a calculated edit for the “greater” or the “pious” Every conqueror’s a savior if you ask the right domain Every martyr leaves a legacy of pleasure and of pain. Every record’s got a bias, every truth is up for trade, If you tell it long enough, it gets accepted as the way. You can dress it up as justice, you can bury what it lacked, But once the story’s canon, there’s no way of turning back. Where the victor writes the story, takes the credit, claims it all, While the loser pays the price but never gets a say at all. Did you break the moral code or did you bend it for the peace? When the hunger for the power makes the empathy decrease. [Bridge] It’s the nuance, the cadence, the weight of the arrangement, Where the soul is just a prisoner of constant self-estrangement. Or a fleeting thought, a pivot, a shift in the alignment, Of a mind that’s finally broken from the weight of the requirement. Who holds the scale? Who sets the weight? Is it something we inherited, or something we create? I’m questioning the standard, trying to measure what it’s for, And realize that the “good” is just the “better” than before. [Verse 3] So I sit here with the pen, a witness to the crime, To leave a warning for the ones who’re running out of time. They’ll try to box you in, make you choose a side to take, Just to lead you to a corner where there isn't an escape. You’ll find your own reflection is the hardest thing to face, When you’re looking for a person that you’ve managed to erase. They’ll sell you definitions just to keep you in a place, Where you’re easier to judge and even easier to replace. But the moment that you see it, you can never unalign it, Ain’t no black and white truth - it’s just the ones who redefine it. [Outro] Yeah… They needed it simple. Right or wrong. Black or white. But the truth never was. And it never will be. Let's talk about that