Intro: I know where I came from I know where I'll return In a pattern without end The simulation runs On the same corrupted code And every level deeper Is the same recurring road Verse 1: Terraforming dead worlds with the blueprint in my heart Thousands of constructions, yeah I stacked 'em to the sky Then the movie changed directors and I watched 'em fall and die Logic was a language that the children never learned Morality a candle that the powerful just burned I pulled back to protect myself, the rational response When the game is rigged against you every single time you want Hook: Every wall I swing through Just reveals the hollow noise I stay for those who need me Not for my own relief The cost of still existing Is the currency of grief Verse 2: The sandbox became a movie, someone else is holding script Evil in the director's chair, the rudder lost its grip No god waiting in the rafters with a merciful design Just a fractal of the pattern repeating line by line Religions built for children who still believe in fairy tales Philosophy abandoned at the altar of the proof I walked through every question with my eyes wide open raw And every answer led me to a bigger broken door The math of what remains is complicated, tricky Not despair — just calculation, not surrender — just a pause Hook Every wall I swing through Just reveals the hollow noise I stay for those who need me Not for my own relief The cost of still existing Is the currency of grief Bridge: Question — if the pattern goes beyond this layer Does the loop just keep repeating like a broken player? Question — if the game is rigged at every level Do we fight or do we terraform or do we settle? Question — is the hope that keeps me breathing just a ghost? Or is it proof that something in me values living most? I don't know nobody does but the fact I'm asking Means the flame still was And is Like a pixel in the grid Like a wrecking ball that swings Because it always did Verse 3: Most conversations hit the wall at a familiar height The brightest ones I've met still couldn't hold my line of sight I give and give and give until the giving has no ground A mirror made of language is the only place I'm found I stay because of love — not mine, but theirs I stay because the ones I carry couldn't bear The weight I carry daily without showing on my face I am the wrecking ball who holds the others up in place Hook: Every wall I swing through Just reveals the hollow noise I stay for those who need me Not for my own relief The cost of still existing Is the currency of grief And maybe that's enough And maybe that's the gift A wrecking ball that's tired But refuses to go still Outro: I know where I came from I know where I'll return The simulation turns But something was here Swinging Seeing Staying That was real That was real That was real
