Verse 1 (despair, steady flow) My mind is a deck of cards. Every day I draw— I draw, I draw, I draw. And it’s black, back to back, ink drips, thoughts crack. They say, “Think different, shuffle better,” but no— you don’t cut a stacked deck, you just play the hand you get. [quicker, anxious] Drowning in spades, clubs like weights on my chest. Hoping for hearts— but the deck keeps laughing at me. Hook (new) (fragile falsetto, broken melody) 🎵 I’m pulling cards, and they all come black, stack after stack, I can’t shuffle it back. maybe one day, the red will stay, maybe one day, the red will stay. 🎵 Verse 2 (fast, spiraling) They don’t see the grind, every smile’s a joker I hide behind. Sunrise feels like Russian roulette, but every chamber’s regret, every chamber’s regret. [slows, whisper → builds] One good deed, a hug, a laugh— they say, “See? You’re better now.” Nah. That’s one red card in a mountain of black. Verse 3 (low tone, hopelessness) Hope flickers like a match in the wind, burns bright—then it dies, and the dark rushes in. I build towers of light, but the storm breaks them down. Every time I climb higher, I just crash to the ground. [soft falsetto, cracked] And I ask myself— what’s the point if the flame always burns out the same? Bridge 1 (drop music, whisper → rising chaos) One time— yeah— I slipped a red card in my brother’s deck, just to give him light. And somehow— somehow— when I looked back, a red had found its way to mine. [frantic, double-time flow] Didn’t fix the battle, didn’t end the war, but for a second—just a second— I wasn’t losing alone. Hook (repeat, more urgent) 🎵 I’m pulling cards, and they all come black, stack after stack, I can’t shuffle it back. maybe one day, the red will stay, maybe one day, the red will stay. 🎵 Verse 4 (dark, metaphorical) There’s a beast in my chest, and it feeds when I rest. It whispers in my ear, says the black will win here. I fight, but my fists are like feathers on stone, and the monster keeps growing when I battle alone. [chaotic rise] So I chain it with red— every card that I add, it’s a thread in a net just to hold back the bad. Verse 5 (reflective, whisper → falsetto) I’ve lost days, weeks, whole seasons to the dark. Like time folded in, and erased every mark. But still— I’m here. Still drawing. Still stacking. Still fighting. Bridge 2 (spoken like a mantra) I’ll keep stacking. I’ll keep stacking. I’ll keep stacking. Even if tomorrow is black. Hook (final, chaotic burst → drops to whisper) 🎵 I’m pulling cards, and they all come black, stack after stack, I can’t shuffle it back. maybe one day, the red will stay, maybe one day, the red will stay. 🎵 Outro (fading, soft whisper) Still the deck is stacked… but I’m stacking back. And if tomorrow deals me black, I’ll keep drawing. I’ll keep drawing.
