Intro [Iconic bass, low and pulsing] Verse You call it a viewpoint, I call it turning away, Dressed up in outrage that knows how to behave. You speak about meaning, But circle your fears, And don’t see how gently you’ve faded for years. Verse You trace all the arguments, Line after line, But never quite say what is trembling inside. There’s comfort in distance, In staying unclear, In letting the silence say what you won’t hear. Bridge [Atmospheric] You’re aching for something That feels like a guide, So you run to the places where edges are clean. You call it “just common sense,” Easy, defined, But it’s only the world that won’t break in between. Pre-Chorus You weren’t ever taken – You were already there, With a language that waited to land. It fits like a coat On that quiet old thought: No one’s been reaching for your hand. Chorus This isn’t a crack in the system, The system is living in you. Your fear of the question Is shaping the truth. You’re asking for answers that settle, And trading away what you see, Because if you unlearn how to feel, You unlearn how to be. Verse You speak about order, But mean being small, A weight you can’t carry, so you let it fall. On faces and names, On shadows, on blame, On anything else that won’t mirror your shape. Verse You call it responsibility When voices get loud, But it starts in the places that pull you apart. Not typed in a comment, Not shared at a table – But there, in the moment you’re facing your part. Bridge And yes, it’s a fracture To look at your own reflection Without something kind to defend. But right where you linger, Without turning away, The fear might remember how to feel again. Final Chorus This isn’t a crack in the system… The system is living in you. And if you want something to shift, Don’t look past the room – It’s here. [Guitar Solo – shimmering, expansive] [End]
