[Intro] [Verse 1] He carves a woman laughing out of scrap-yard steel and rust Hands like broken metronomes, all blistered, bright with dust He knows every wrinkle in a stranger’s tired face Puts all of their tomorrows in a three-foot block of space [Short Interlude] [Verse 2] He’s renting out a corner in a warehouse by the tracks Coffee in a jar, unpaid invoices in stacks No grant, no patrons waiting in a velvet row Just a naked lightbulb humming while the midnight radios glow [Chorus] He won’t trend, he won’t go viral No blue check by his name But the work will still be standing When they rebrand all the game While the tastemakers and their circles Choose who’s “meant to be seen” He’s off the feed, off the label But he’s truer than the screen [Melodic Interlude] [Verse 3] Downtown there’s a genius who “refuses shapes and form” Hangs an empty canvas, calls it “weather before storm” Panels full of jargon, all applauding what they lack Selling curated nothing at a hundred grand a crack [Short Interlude] [Verse 4] Influencers clinking glasses under tungsten gallery skies Talking about disruption with exhaustion in their eyes Every word is sponsored, every smile is on a reel They can fake a revelation, but they cannot fake the steel [Chorus] He won’t trend, he won’t go viral No blue check by his name But the work will still be standing When they rebrand all the game While the tastemakers and their circles Choose who’s “meant to be seen” He’s off the feed, off the label But he’s truer than the screen [Guitar solo] [Bridge] One day when he’s buried under numbers on a stone They’ll dig through dusty storage just to claim what they don’t own Curators like vultures at the edges of the wake Writing holy little essays on the bones they’re there to take [Short Interlude] [Verse 5] They’ll say, “We always knew it, he was decades out of time” Print his rusted angels on a retro vintage line Podcasts, retrospectives, “how he changed the city’s soul” While the man who lit the furnace never lived to see it glow [Final Chorus] He won’t trend, he won’t go viral But the fire’s in his veins And the statues keep on breathing Long after they change the frames Let the tastemakers and their circles Crowd around what they decreed He was always more than numbers More than noise on someone’s feed [Outro] In a warehouse by the railway Under flickering yellow light There’s a girl carved out of metal Still laughing through the night
