(Intro - A slow, melancholic piano riff repeats. A heavy, distorted kick drum and a muffled snare drop in, setting a somber pace.) (Cm) (Ab) (Eb) (Bb) (Spoken, low voice, over the beat): Yeah. The silence is the loudest sound. That's when you hear the verdict. (Verse 1: The Internal Judge) (Cm) Woke up this morning, already caught the loss and the L (Ab) Before the day started, already wrote my own farewell to hope (Eb) Got this invisible judge seated right behind my eyes (Bb) Handing down the sentence when I only reach the second prize and tries. (Cm) I move like I'm swimming in thick, cold tar and pitch (Ab) Every small victory still feels like a trick and a glitch in the system (Eb) I see the bar set high, man, I climb for the reach and the top (Bb) But I always fall short, always know exactly when to stop and flop. (Cm) They tell me I'm gifted, they tell me I got the tools and the brain (Ab) But the mirror reflects the fear that I can't break the chain and the pain (Eb) The success is fleeting, the failure is the core and the true state (Bb) Just the perpetual feeling of being born five minutes late to the gate. (Pre-Chorus - The piano motif gains an aching intensity. The vocal rises with strained emotion.) (Ab) The voice of my father echoes, the glance of my mother is clear (Eb) I see the hope in their faces, I just amplify the fear right here (Bb) They invested the love, the time, the trust—all the best parts they had (Cm) And I paid them back slow, every good intention gone bad. (Chorus - The beat hits harder, with a full, heavy sound. Vocals are powerful, melodic, and layered with self-critique.) (Cm) This is the Weighted Score, man, I can never clear the bar! (Ab) Always looking up at the person that I should be, so far! (Eb) Every small achievement feels like a temporary bluff and a joke! (Bb) The deepest truth I know is the promise I broke and broke and broke! (Cm) I'm the king of the almost, the master of the close call and the slip (Ab) The heavy disappointment, hanging right on my lip and hip! (Eb) I got the skill to succeed, but I lack the damn will to claim it (Bb) Just a footnote on a life that I couldn't quite frame it. (Verse 2: The Silent Burden) (Cm) It's not the outside critics, man, I can handle the hate and the noise (Ab) It's the silent reflection on all the potential that cloys and destroys (Eb) I see the path laid out, the one where I won and I ran fast (Bb) But the version of me in the present is tied to the mistakes of the past. (Cm) I wear a disguise of confidence, a fake, plastic shield that I built (Ab) Trying to hide the guilt, trying to hide the emotional spill and the tilt (Eb) They ask me how I'm doing, I just feed 'em the surface lie and the clean take (Bb) But inside, I'm just counting the minutes 'til the next big mistake that I make. (Cm) This feeling's a shadow that follows, it never gives me space to breathe (Ab) The only thing I accomplish is the complex net that I weave and bequeath to my doubt (Eb) I just wanna hit the reset, find the point where I diverged and split (Bb) Before the constant fear that I'm just fundamentally unfit. (Pre-Chorus - Building back to the punchy realization.) (Ab) The voice of my father echoes, the glance of my mother is clear (Eb) I see the hope in their faces, I just amplify the fear right here (Bb) They invested the love, the time, the trust—all the best parts they had (Cm) And I paid them back slow, every good intention gone bad. (Chorus - Maximum force and heavy delivery. The bass line dominates with crushing weight.) (Cm) This is the Weighted Score, man, I can never clear the bar! (Ab) Always looking up at the person that I should be, so far! (Eb) Every small achievement feels like a temporary bluff and a joke! (Bb) The deepest truth I know is the promise I broke and broke and broke! (Cm) I'm the king of the almost, the master of the close call and the slip (Ab) The heavy disappointment, hanging right on my lip and hip! (Eb) I got the skill to succeed, but I lack the damn will to claim it (Bb) Just a footnote on a life that I couldn't quite frame it. (Outro - The beat slowly fades out, leaving only the slow, melancholic piano riff and the echo of the voice.) (Cm) (Ab) Couldn't quite frame it... (Eb) (Bb) Just couldn't quite fit... (Cm)
