[Intro] The Verse Teller [Verse 1] Latch broke day one — three years of denial landlord's promise filed under mistrial Window won't close; the bucket learned the tide leak ain't the problem once denial moves inside Bills in a stockpile — read 'em by weight, that's the price Mom never named deprival — she said we have rice Stay inside your file — she called that survival I'm still wearing her bridle — wisdom on idle School taught aspiration, alley taught me primal Be exceptional was a passport I couldn't compile Every bruise got compounded — that was the trial Only one was right when it counted — viable Slow simmer, low fire — hotpot don't entitle cooks every loud dream milder — that's the bridle Hood takes your edges, then asks for your title I mistook that dullness for warmth, called it survival [Chorus] Nine years promising the arrival hood gave me a language, hood gave me a bridle I kept calling it home, kept circling the dial each year a deadline dressed up as survival Hotpot keeps you idle — don't ask, don't entitle Broth writes the life cycle — same fire, same recital Skyline in my profile — visa was the trial I live in meanwhile — file it under exile [Verse 2] Last spring, I froze across the street — one minute in denial Same cafe prints a phone-repair receipt — fluorescent buzzing senile Yellow ceiling painted over — no throne, no title Hood asks what you ordering — old gods filed under exile Two years back — saw a ghost inside a six-lane grid Bones had his kid on the back — light changed before we did Reprisal or mercy? We let the silence ride too long Mercy, still murky — revenge would've made a better song Cardboard lady, bike older than me, voice monotone Weighed my stockpile, barely looked at me, paid in coins alone Son was the only family — drove her back to Bến Tre, no eulogy Whole life tallied in one alley — one-line obituary Tokyo skyline came free — exit fee I couldn't dial Berlin plant by the window, rent-free — the pull I couldn't reconcile I dressed my staying in an overcoat — called it survival Self-denial in a cleaner coat — exile is the spiral [Chorus] Nine years promising the arrival hood gave me a language, hood gave me a bridle I kept calling it home, kept circling the dial each year a deadline dressed up as survival Hotpot keeps you idle — don't ask, don't entitle Broth writes the life cycle — same fire, same recital Skyline in my profile — visa was the trial I live in meanwhile — file it under exile [Bridge] Number I didn't save but I knew four rings, didn't answer, didn't redial Mom tossed the bag with the letter from fifteen I filed my life under later — no witness, no aisle [Final Chorus] Nine years promising the arrival tenth year still bargaining with survival Call it a lifeline — call it the life cycle Hood gave me a spine — then called it a bridle Skyline came free, the visa was the trial meanwhile is the country I file under exile I eat by the sink, one foot in the aisle Sitting means signing a lease on the spiral
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