[Intro] (low, dry, almost bored) Mmm… [Verse 1 — vocal flat, controlled, half-spoken; delivery has the cadence of someone telling an old story they've stopped being afraid of] Came back in a clean suit, eyes still full of smoke. I carry a head of stories— nobody wants that joke. This city smiles like razors, then pulls you by the sleeve. I talk about the little things so I don't have to see. [Pre-Chorus — same calm, tension only in the words, never in the delivery] In a room that meant nothing, the air went hard and cold. Something missed my heartbeat— too close to be called "old." [Chorus — full band enters but stays restrained, never explosive; vocal remains level and unbothered throughout, harmonizer-detuned doubling on "it's coming for my soul" for weight without volume] I walk like I'm unbreakable, like fate still owes me nights. But there's a click on the staircase— drop your guard, it takes your light. Yeah, I'm smiling… I'm not in control, one second and the world turns cold. There's a click on the staircase… and it's coming for my soul. [Verse 2 — same measured calm, delivery almost amused at its own danger] Then neon and cheap glamour, a warning in my chest: don't cross that line, don't touch it, just pass the quiet test. I played the "harmless" version, I kept my hands in sight. It felt like I was winning… then everything went night. [Pre-Chorus 2 — the only place the calm cracks slightly; delivery tightens, breath audible] Midnight, metal heartbeat, a panic with no voice. I begged without a language. I didn't have a choice. [Chorus — identical calm as before, same restraint] I walk like I'm unbreakable, like fate still owes me nights. But there's a click on the staircase— drop your guard, it takes your light. Yeah, I'm smiling… I'm not in control, one second and the world turns cold. There's a click on the staircase… and it's coming for my soul. [Bridge | half-time — vocal drops further, near-spoken, reflective rather than tense; this is a man making peace with something, not fighting it] I've seen faith in a small thing, held tight like it's a god. I've seen pride turn into ash on a dirty kitchen floor. And me— I hold my habits, my coffee, my pretend: the guy who never shakes… while I shake inside again. Luck keeps on spinning. Then suddenly it stops. No small talk saves you. No style can change the cost. [Final Chorus — same restrained dynamic as before, no bigger, no louder; the horror here is that nothing changes, even at the end] I walk like I'm unbreakable, like fate still owes me nights. But there's a click on the staircase— drop your guard, it takes your light. Yeah, I'm smiling… I'm not in control, one second and the world turns cold. There's a click on the staircase… and it's coming for my soul. [Outro | whisper — near silence, the calm never breaks even here] One second… just one second… and the click… was there.
