[Verse 1 - Staccato, intense] Stress. Let me guess… Another test? Can't find rest. All this noise. Like a confess. Can't suppress. World's a mess. (Now. Now. Now.) I'm in this quest. Feel the press. Deep distress. [Chorus - Driving rhythm] Need progress! Must address! This excess! Want success! Yes! Need less! [Verse 2 - Longer, more reflective] This constant striving, like a tangled game of chess, Each move considered just invites more duress. Searching for clarity within the muddle and the din, Trying to follow threads back to where good paths begin. Is this the only function? To strain until I collapse? Or is there quiet knowledge buried in these mental maps? A still point deep beneath the insistence of the need, A different kind of harvest from this bitter seed. [Chorus - More urgent] Need progress! Must address! This excess! Want success! Yes! Need less! [Bridge - Longer, turning point/realization] Maybe the quest isn't to conquer or defeat the strain, But learn to navigate the landscape of the psychic pain. To finally confess I don't have all control, And find a fragile strength emerging from the weakened whole. To stop demanding solace like a debt that's overdue, And let the pressure shape me into something strong and new. It's not about escape, perhaps it's letting through. [instrumental] [Ending] This quest... goes on. Confess... the dawn? Still face the press. Must address... This whole mess. Saying yes. To the process. Maybe bless... This stress. Part of me. See? To the process. Maybe bless... This stress. Part of me. See? [Chorus - More urgent] Need progress! Must address! This excess! Want success! Yes! Need less! [END] [Chorus - More urgent] Need progress! Must address! This excess! Want success! Yes! Need less! [END]
