Silver Degrees [ENG]

The opening track of Orange: Songs from the Sunset. Our protagonist stands at the edge of adulthood— celebrated, applauded, and completely hollow. Silver Degrees captures the weight of success without meaning, a restless anthem for anyone who’s ever smiled through burnout under the city lights. A collaboration with Elvorin, drawn from the novel, Orange: The Color of Sunset. Orange: Songs from the Sunset (Deluxe Edition) album: https://suno.com/playlist/2002af28-6a94-4473-b0e8-595e60ce5ee3 jpbbantigue.com / orangethecolorofsunset.com ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ They called my name like it meant something. My mother cried, my father smiled for the first time in months. Flashbulbs burst like fireworks over my head-- but the sky never changed its color. Gown on my back, medal on my chest, a handshake, a flash, a thousand steps. They said I made it-- they said I’m free, but I just feel like a ghost in a rented suit. Traffic hums outside the gym, banners wave with words I’ll never read. Everyone’s proud, everyone’s loud, and I’m clapping for a stranger wearing my name. The air is thick with lights that never sleep, faces blur in victory’s heat. But under my skin it’s all static and fear-- I smile for the photo, and disappear. Silver degrees, shining without fire, all these dreams, built on borrowed desire. They hang my picture on a wall of praise, but the mirror says I’m still half-awake. Silver degrees-- cold in my hands, burning out faster than the plan. They call it success, I call it noise, the crowd fades out, and so does my voice. Walking home past the overpass light, neon signs blink like restless eyes. Paper caps in the gutter, same as me-- decorations for a different kind of grief. Father’s words echo, clean and rehearsed, “Son, you’ve made us proud, you’ve broken the curse.” But pride’s just pressure in a nicer shirt, and silence is the only award that hurts. I used to believe in finish lines. Now I only see intersections. They told me to find meaning-- but meaning’s just another exam I never studied for. And still, they cheer. And still, I smile. Silver degrees, framed in glass and gold, hanging on walls in houses I outgrew. They said I was built for more than this, but I don’t even know who “I” is. Silver degrees, trophies of light, cold reflections of a sleepless night. I wanted warmth, I found display, I’m still here shining--but not okay. The crowd fades to static, and the lights forget my face. Only the hum of the city remains-- and somewhere, a voice whispers, “Congratulations.”