[Verse 1] You pinned my sleeve to the clinic wall Drew a clean line down the middle Said, “Stand here, face the camera” While the old pipes knocked like teeth [Pre-Chorus] I learned the angle of your ruler I learned the smile that keeps it calm But every mark you made to fix me Turned into a map beneath my skin [Chorus] Crooked, crooked—still I stand Your straight lines slip right through my hands Crooked, crooked—say it plain I won’t wear your shape again [Verse 2] At roll call, you said my name wrong I answered from the stairwell grate The speaker clicked, the room went quiet Then someone else said, “Same here” [Pre-Chorus] We kept the scraps you called defective Bent little pieces, warm with use We fit together without permission And made a door you couldn’t close [Chorus] Crooked, crooked—still I stand Your straight lines slip right through my hands Crooked, crooked—say it plain I won’t wear your shape again [Call and Response] Who gets to name the fault? We do, we do. Who gets to keep the mark? We do, we do. [Bridge] The file says: altered. The speaker says: report. My mouth says nothing. My feet find the door. [Final Chorus] Crooked, crooked—here we stand Your straight lines slip right through our hands Crooked, crooked—say it plain We won’t wear your shape again [Outro] No clean edge No final form Still here Still ours
