[Intro, bare spoken voice] Thirteen. That's how old I was. [Verse 1, close, restrained, frightened] Cold metal under skin with nothing left to pad the bone, On my side, without my hair, a body I could barely own. They called it laughing gas. The room went distant, then it bent, I was there inside the blur, still knowing where the pressure went. A sting became a weight. That weight kept pressing through my back, Minutes with no shape, and then I heard the crack. My skeleton was meant to be the thing that held me whole, Now I could feel the cold go places I could not control. I thought that this was it. No future hiding round the bend, No grown-up version of me waiting somewhere past the end. I know they had a reason. Knowing didn't ease the fear. I was just a kid who wanted to get out of there. [Hook, raw melodic rap, heavy snare] I was thirteen. I wanted to go home. I needed it to stop. I didn't need to grow. You ask me why I can't leave this world alone? There's a kid on that table I refuse to leave alone. [Verse 2, urgent, rhythm tightening] They told me to lie flat. I stayed for six hours straight, Did everything I could to put the danger out of reach. Halfway home, my upper back became a place I couldn't leave, By the time we reached the house, the street could hear me scream. No position brought relief. No medicine could touch it, Hour after hour, nowhere in my body I could tuck it. When I say I want more life, remember what that means: I want the hours without a child going through what happened to me. I didn't come away convinced that suffering makes us better, I came away unable to accept it lasts forever. I heard "be realistic," heard "that's just the way it goes," From people who could leave the room and go back to their homes. I understand the need to make some peace with what we can't, But I can't make that bargain for the kid that I still am. Call it anger, call it hope, I haven't learned to pull apart The wish to build a better world and what broke inside my heart. [Hook, louder, cracked chest voice] I was thirteen. I wanted to go home. I needed it to stop. I didn't need to grow. You ask me why I can't leave this world alone? There's a kid on that table I refuse to leave alone. [Verse 3, determined, controlled double-time] Thirty countries later, still that question in my head: Which limits have we tested? Which ones have we just accepted? First day in San Francisco, in a room where people spoke Of preserving human brains, I felt a different kind of hope. I don't know what we'll solve. I know I want to do the work, With people asking questions that once sounded too absurd. Every year I get to live, I want to put some of it there, Toward a future where a child has fewer reasons to be scared. [Bridge, complete beat cut, almost whispered] I wish I could reach back. I wish I could tell him that he gets to leave. He gets to see the world. He gets to be older than thirteen. [Final hook, exposed voice, then drums return] I was thirteen. I wanted to go home. I needed it to stop. I didn't need to grow. You ask me why I can't leave this world alone? There's a kid on that table I refuse to leave alone. [Outro, spoken, dry ending] I got older. He came with me.
