Counterweight

𝒞𝓁ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 ℒ𝓎𝓇𝒳

prog rock, blues-rock, theatrical

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V5.5

Every morning,
another name appears.

Another follower.
Another silent account.

(You found me)
(You clicked the button)
(You never heard the song)

Did you actually fucking listen?

You follow,
waiting for the follow back.

You like,
waiting for the like.

You press the button,
then sit there counting.

(One for me)
(One for you)
(Everybody gets a number)

That's not music.

I play the guitar.

Not a button.
Not a statistic.
Not a fucking number on a screen.

I pick up the instrument.
I play the parts.
I hear something I don't like,
so I change it.

I remix it.
I tear it apart.
I rebuild it.

There's something real underneath this.

(You can't fake the hours)
(You can't fake the playing)

You can fake the numbers.

You followed him!

So what?

You followed him!

So FUCKING what?

You didn't listen.

Don't follow me
because you want me following you.

Don't like me
because you want another like.

Don't walk into my room
holding out your hand
for something you never gave.

(Here's your number)
(Here's mine)
(Trade them back and forth)

I don't give a fuck.

Keep your scoreboard.
Keep your little exchange.

I didn't start making music
to become another statistic.

I make it because
there's something inside the song
worth dragging into the light.

Maybe you don't like it.

Fine.

Maybe you hate it.

Fine.

Maybe nobody listens.

I'll still pick up the guitar.

Because when the software stops,
when the numbers disappear,
when nobody is watching,

there's still a guitar in my hands.

(Still playing)
(Still changing)
(Still creating)

That's real.

So don't tell me
we're supporting each other
because you clicked my name.

Don't tell me
we're connected
because two numbers went up.

Don't pretend
you heard something
when you never pressed play.

I would rather have ten people
actually listening
than ten thousand fucking followers.

TEN THOUSAND!

I DON'T CARE!

ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!

I STILL DON'T GIVE A FUCK!

Numbers!
Numbers!
Numbers!

Turn the fucking numbers off.

Listen to the guitar.

Hear the mistakes.
Hear the changes.
Hear the choices.

That's where I am.

Not in the counter.
Not in the ranking.
Not in the follow list.

I'm in the fucking music.

If you like it,
listen.

If you don't,
keep moving.

But don't follow me,
Expecting a transaction,

(You don't owe me)
(I don't owe you)

Make music.
Listen to music.

Or get the fuck out of the way.

2721/7500

Made using these 2 original uploads: https://suno.com/s/s8AhtFiKwlWf9hgM https://suno.com/s/xf55LezYAeXnCTxg -------------------------------------------- 🎸 Go check out the TRA! 🎸 Remix real instrumental uploads by real musicians 🔥 🤘 https://discord.gg/tra-studio 🎸 --------------------------------------------- Every morning, another name appears. Another follower. Another silent account. (You found me) (You clicked the button) (You never heard the song) Did you actually fucking listen? You follow, waiting for the follow back. You like, waiting for the like. You press the button, then sit there counting. (One for me) (One for you) (Everybody gets a number) That's not music. I play the guitar. Not a button. Not a statistic. Not a fucking number on a screen. I pick up the instrument. I play the parts. I hear something I don't like, so I change it. I remix it. I tear it apart. I rebuild it. There's something real underneath this. (You can't fake the hours) (You can't fake the playing) You can fake the numbers. You followed him! So what? You followed him! So FUCKING what? You didn't listen. Don't follow me because you want me following you. Don't like me because you want another like. Don't walk into my room holding out your hand for something you never gave. (Here's your number) (Here's mine) (Trade them back and forth) I don't give a fuck. Keep your scoreboard. Keep your little exchange. I didn't start making music to become another statistic. I make it because there's something inside the song worth dragging into the light. Maybe you don't like it. Fine. Maybe you hate it. Fine. Maybe nobody listens. I'll still pick up the guitar. Because when the software stops, when the numbers disappear, when nobody is watching, there's still a guitar in my hands. (Still playing) (Still changing) (Still creating) That's real. So don't tell me we're supporting each other because you clicked my name. Don't tell me we're connected because two numbers went up. Don't pretend you heard something when you never pressed play. I would rather have ten people actually listening than ten thousand fucking followers. TEN THOUSAND! I DON'T CARE! ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND! I STILL DON'T GIVE A FUCK! Numbers! Numbers! Numbers! Turn the fucking numbers off. Listen to the guitar. Hear the mistakes. Hear the changes. Hear the choices. That's where I am. Not in the counter. Not in the ranking. Not in the follow list. I'm in the fucking music. If you like it, listen. If you don't, keep moving. But don't follow me, Expecting a transaction, (You don't owe me) (I don't owe you) Make music. Listen to music. Or get the fuck out of the way.

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