[Intro] Seven-Eleven, quarter to eleven, Staring at my reflection, wishing I was headed to heaven. I'm not even sure if I believe it, not even, But every night I fight the same thoughts, repeat 'em. [Verse 1] Seven-Eleven snack aisle, back wild, Black smile, hoodie and a backpack child. Everybody passed by, I was the last guy, Looking at the labels like they held the right answer. Stress eater, chest tighter, Every year a little heavier, every step harder. Best features get buried underneath layers, Looking in the mirror like a stranger wearing my face. Heaven, seven, even, whatever, Tryna keep it together through the roughest weather. Never getting better, that's the lie that I tell, Then I hide from the world in a personal cell. Lunch break, heartbreak, dumb fate, Watching everybody else run while my lungs ache. One cake, one shake, one mistake, Turns into a thousand little choices I can't take back. [Chorus] Seven-Eleven, quarter to eleven, Dreaming of a version of myself that made it to heaven. Not even close, but I'm breathing, still believing, Maybe someday I'll find a reason to keep healing. Seven-Eleven, quarter to eleven, Every tear I ever shed is written in the ledger. Not even perfect, not even near it, But I'm still right here and I ain't disappeared yet. [Verse 2] Kids laughed, grown-ups stared, Like my whole existence was a burden I carried. Tried diets, tried silence, Tried pretending all the pain was just inside me. Every photo felt like evidence, Every joke cut deep with a hidden relevance. Friends said, "Don't sweat it," But they never really lived inside my head with it. Seven, heaven, even, endless, Spinning through depression like a wheel with no exits. Questions with no answers, Just a big man dancing with invisible cancers. And the saddest thing? I became my own enemy. Every insult ever thrown started echoing internally. Turning every memory into a penalty. [Bridge] Maybe heaven isn't somewhere in the sky, Maybe heaven's just the day you stop asking why. Maybe even when you're broken, you can rise, Maybe healing starts the second that you try. [Final Chorus] Seven-Eleven, quarter to eleven, Still alive, still fighting, still reaching for heaven. Not even winning every battle that I'm in, But every morning that I wake up is a win. Seven-Eleven, quarter to eleven, Used to think my story was a sentence already written. Now even in the dark, I can see a little light, And for the first time in forever, I might be alright. [Outro] Seven... Heaven... Even... Breathing... Still breathing...
