[Intro — William, quiet, measured] Ten thousand years isn't a number. It's just a lot of Tuesdays. [Verse 1] Nobody warns you how the weight don't come from any single blow — it comes from every night that's ordinary, every century that just... keeps going. [Verse 2] We buried gods who quit believing they'd ever see the finish line. We watched the ones who couldn't carry lay their burden down in time. [Pre-Chorus] There's no final battle coming. No last stand to end the war. Just tomorrow. And tomorrow. And the night that came before. [Chorus — strings entering, building slowly] This is the long game, not the short one. No trophy waits at any end. We keep the light on out of habit, not because we think it'll bend. [Verse 3] Some nights I forget the reason. Some nights the reason's all I've got. Either way, I'm here tomorrow, whether or not it means a lot. [Chorus repeats, fuller] This is the long game, not the short one. No trophy waits at any end. We keep the light on out of habit, not because we think it'll bend. [Bridge — strings alone, patient, unresolved] [Final Verse — quiet, resolved] Ten thousand years from now, still standing — not because I never tired. Just because I never once decided tired was a reason to retire. [Outro — William, alone, calm] Some fights don't end. You just... keep showing up for them.
