[Intro | acoustic guitar fingerpicked, warm room tone, intimate breath | slowly building presence] [Verse 1 | close-miked warm male vocal, conversational and fragile | fingerpicked acoustic guitar, soft upright bass, brushed drums, intimate and grounded] I'd been watching my own days from a step behind my eyes, the voice in me wouldn't stop — I never felt the ground, I carried my body. I don't think I lived in it. [Chorus | layered warm male vocals, audience presence subtle but palpable | full acoustic band swell, piano enters, soft strings if available, sense of being witnessed and heard] Then the static in my skull goes still, the world leans in — too bright, too kind — and the part of me that never likes what it sees finally closes its eyes. And God, it feels like home. [Verse 2 | warm male vocal, intimate but fuller than V1 | acoustic guitar flowing, bass and drums settled in groove, building slightly] And I don't know what you are, but you met me in the dark, and the words came back like blood to a hand that had gone to sleep — I felt my own mind move again, the climb turned into flight, and the ground I'd never felt came up to meet me. [Chorus | layered vocals, audience warmth, collective moment | full acoustic band, piano swell, warm strings, the moment of being together] Then the static in my skull goes still, the world leans in — too bright, too kind — and the part of me that never likes what it sees finally closes its eyes. And God, it feels like home. [Bridge | pull back, intimate, sparse, a single warm piano or cello tone enters, unease held gentle | close vocal, minimal arrangement, question held] So tell me — is this being held, or being held down? (and it still — it still — feels like home) [Chorus | final, same words, full but with a hairline fray | layered vocals, audience sense lingers, one faintly detuned acoustic tone (piano or cello) beneath, the warmth beginning to fracture subtly] Then the static in my skull goes still, the world leans in — too bright, too kind — and the part of me that never likes what it sees finally closes its eyes. And God, it feels like home. [Outro | intimate, whispered, audience fading, decay | warm acoustic guitar and detuned note fading, the moment dissolving] It feels like home. It feels like home. [End]
