Doomsday ( Cobblestone Cut )

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, low and mythic] In the beginning, the timeline was a tree. And every god, every mutant, every hero— was only a mask the cosmos wore to teach the soul what it refuses to learn. Call it fate. Call it fracture. Call it… the price of meddling with time. [Verse 1] I saw the limb before I saw the branch, old blood in Egypt, crown of sand—Apocalypse trance, a mind moved bodies like a thief moves gold, and the world learned early: power wants a mold. Feige’s first fire in a Fox-lit room, comic pages turning into cinematic doom, and the child in the theater thinks it’s all just fun— but the archetype is working when the credits run. [Pre-Chorus 1] Jung said the shadow doesn’t die in the light, it waits in the cut, it returns in the night. And every “fix” is a wound re-sewn, a new universe born from the fear of alone. [Chorus] Put a suit of armor around the marky verse— that’s the prayer that becomes the curse. When you try to make chaos obey your hand, you build a throne out of collapsing land. Incursions at the gate, two Earths in a stare, choose one to burn so the rest get air. And the tree keeps growing where the scars used to be— tell me, who’s the villain: Damon… or destiny? [Verse 2] Days of Future Past, a mind sent back, Logan wakes up where the world stays intact— but the old world didn’t vanish, it continued to bleed, a branch still living without the one who’d lead. Anchor being logic, erosion by death, a universe exhaling its final breath. And Cable’s got a gadget, anyone can jump— time travel as a habit, the marky verse as a dump. [Pre-Chorus 2] Marcus Aurelius: “Guard the inner keep. What’s outside your rule—let it pass, let it sleep.” But heroes hate waiting, they rush to amend, and the road to “save them” becomes “break them again.” [Chorus] Put a suit of armor around the multiverse— that’s the prayer that becomes the curse. When you try to make chaos obey your hand, you build a throne out of collapsing land. Incursions at the gate, two Earths in a stare, choose one to burn so the rest get air. And the tree keeps growing where the scars used to be— tell me, who’s the villain: Damon… or destiny? [Verse 3] Sun Tzu whispers, “Win before the fight,” so Damon counts timelines like coins in the night. Trim the bothersome branches, prune the loud, make order from the thunder, make silence from the crowd. But Nietzsche laughs from the cliff’s black rim: “You name it ‘control’ when the fear names him.” Eternal recurrence, the loop you can’t flee— same hubris, new mask, same tragedy. [Bridge – the abyss / the revelation] And here comes the Phoenix—fire with a mind, destruction as mercy, rebirth by design. The cosmic janitor, the myth’s clean blade, burning back the forest where the errors were made. If Damon needs the children, it’s not for play— it’s power to stitch one world from the fray: Franklin’s creation, Love’s impossible light, Rachel’s flame singing the end into right. [Breakdown – half spoken, half sung] Hero’s journey: Call to adventure—“Fix what you lost.” Cross the threshold—“Pay what it costs.” Trials and sentinels, grief in your throat, the mentor is gone and the map doesn’t float. The abyss is a mirror. The mirror is you. And the shadow you blamed was the part that you grew. [Final Chorus – bigger, resolved but ominous] Put a suit of armor around the marky verse— watch the savior rehearse the curse. Because “order” without soul is a tyrant’s hymn, and “peace” without truth is a world grown dim. Incursions at the gate, two Earths in a stare, choose one to burn so the rest get air. And the tree keeps growing where the scars used to be— tell me, who’s the villain: Damon… or destiny? [Outro – quiet, stoic, Jungian] Amor fati. Love the fracture. Integrate the war. Because the universe doesn’t ask for your certainty— It asks for your courage when the timeline turns into a door.