(Verse 1) I’ve got an idea in my pocket, keeps tapping my leg, I can see the colors, yeah, I know how it ends. But the page is way too clean, like it’s holding its breath, And I’m wondering which mark counts as the first real step. Do I start with the part that already feels true? Or the messy little bit I don’t know how to do? I’ve got plans on the table, coffee going cold— Every path feels right, every one feels bold. (Pre-Chorus) It’s not stuck, it’s just wide, Too many doors open at the same time. (Chorus) Where do I put the first line? In the margin or the middle of my mind? Do I sketch the outline, or dive inside? Do I start with the wrong note just to hear it collide? I’ve got the spark, I’ve got the why, Now I’m just looking for a place to try. Yeah… where do I put the first line? (Verse 2) Maybe I’ll open the file I was scared to name, Or write the chorus first and pretend that’s brave. Do I clean it all up, or let it be loud? Do I trust the quiet, or follow the crowd? I’m standing in the kitchen with my hands full of “maybe,” Too much heart for a recipe, too wired to wait patiently. The tools are right here, they’re not asking me why— They’re just asking me to pick one and try. (Pre-Chorus 2) I keep thinking there’s a right way in, But the door keeps moving when I blink. (Bridge — The Floof Realization) Sometimes you start with a sentence you cross out, A sound you don’t keep, a doubt you let shout. You don’t need a perfect doorway or a neatly drawn start, You can trip into the middle with a full open heart. The “first line” feels important ‘cause it wants to be clean, But the work only breathes where it’s already been. (Final Chorus) So I’ll start anywhere, let it wobble and bend, I don’t need a straight road to reach the end. I’ll draw a small circle, I’ll leave it half-done, Trust the shape to show up once I’ve begun. I’ve got the spark, I’ve got the why, And anywhere is a good place to try. Yeah… anywhere’s a start. (Outro) Okay. Right here. That counts.
