What the Monster Do ( Cobblestone Cut ) The Greatest Salesman ☎️🧌

For my Brother* Scott G. By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe © 2026 Mark Damon Bitkower. Lyrics & written content are original and owned by the author. All rights reserved. No reproduction, redistribution, or use without prior written permission. 🐰🌙𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐𝕽𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝕾𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖘🌙🐰 [Intro — spoken, close mic] James said, “It ain’t the punch you fear, Scott. It’s the mirror.” Brentwood coffee, black G-Wagon outside, and the truth leaned in wearing no disguise. [Verse 1] I lost my left arm to the sacred Odin eye, bicep torn clean where the old self died. Nerve lit up like a wire in rain, thumb full of lightning, forearm pain. Little brother, wounded healer, kept the peace, fed the family myth like a starving beast. You called it loyalty, I called it love, till the ceiling cracked and the truth fell from above. Scott had a sermon, Scott had a smile, Scott had a Big Book stacked with denial. Handed out Mandino like bread to the men, “The Greatest Salesman” in the lion’s den. Twelve sponsees nodding like saints in a row, but the mirror was the drug he never let go. Said he believed in rigorous honesty, but a mask can’t kneel to reality. [Pre-Chorus] I wrote every memory into a track, every little lie got played back. Thousands of songs, receipts in a flood, family ink turning into blood. [Chorus] The call came from inside the house, inside the name, inside the vows. You did your brother wrong, homie, say it ain’t so, Joe, but the whole town knows. I don’t swing, I reveal. I don’t chase, I heal. When the mirror comes walking through, the monster sees what the monster do. [Post-Chorus — gang chant] Not revenge — consequence. Not revenge — consequence. Straw house, cold wind, truth got teeth when it walks back in. [Verse 2] He said the show had him and his partner inside, one outgoing villain, one quiet with pride. He laughed at the “asshole,” missed the design: the quiet one was colder behind the shrine. Family hive mind, fear-based field, Homelander grin with a brotherly shield. Revisionist gospel, gaslight choir, moving the furniture inside the fire. But INFJ eyes don’t blink at the stage, they count the edits, they clock the rage. Low-latent mind with the doors blown wide, sees the wolf tracks under the guide. Jung in the basement, shadow in chains, individuation through surgical pain. Sovereign, then sigma, then heyoka flame, laughing like thunder when the mask gets named. [Pre-Chorus 2] I gave you years to choose the light, but you chose theater every night. Now every hook is a paper trail, every verse is a holy grail. [Chorus] The call came from inside the house, inside the name, inside the vows. You did your brother wrong, homie, say it ain’t so, Joe, but the whole town knows. I don’t swing, I reveal. I don’t chase, I heal. When the mirror comes walking through, the monster sees what the monster do. [Bridge — cinematic spoken rap] Outside the coffee shop, Brentwood air, James watched the sponsor stare. Music guy said, “Bro, you should know, those tracks are catching fire below.” “My girl’s a therapist — she called the stage: Sophia rising out of rage. If he’s a heyoka with that open mind, your reputation’s running out of time.” “He won’t touch you. That ain’t the threat. He knows the internet don’t forget. He’ll Van Helsing the Dracula act, stake made of chorus, hook made of fact.” Little people sing when kings get cruel, Wyatt wakes when Dolores breaks school. Wyatt Earp waits till the cowboys shove, then consequence rides in wearing gloves. [Breakdown — whispered ad-libs] Receipts… Patterns… Texts… Memory… The house was straw… The wind was family… [Verse 3] Scott loved torture dressed as repair, childhood wounds turned into a chair. Sat on that throne with a sponsor’s glow, feeding on men who said, “Teach me, bro.” But recovery ain’t image, it’s truth in the bone, not applause in a room where you polish your throne. You can quote the book, you can play the part, but the data don’t lie when it maps the heart. Palpatine hands with a generous face, golden good-guy world, curated grace. Precious metals, polished chrome, but rust was living in the home. James saw the G-Wagon black as a hearse, said, “This is the part where the blessing turns curse. Your little brother won’t break your jaw — he’ll let the whole world see what he saw.” [Final Chorus — huge choir synths] The call came from inside the house, inside the blood, inside the vows. You did your brother wrong, homie, say it ain’t so, Joe, but the whole town knows. I don’t swing, I reveal. I don’t chase, I heal. When the mirror comes walking through, the monster sees what the monster do. The call came from inside the house, inside the name, inside the vows. Thousands of songs, one sacred wound, Odin’s eye opened in a darkened room. Not revenge — consequence. Not revenge — consequence. Straw house, cold wind, truth got teeth when it walks back in. [Outro — spoken] James looked at him and said, “Scott… you made a career out of mirrors. You just never thought one would sing.”