(Verse 1) I found the seam where the dimensions split, A library of lives that never quite fit. One book burned bright with my name written clean— A version who never broke, never bled, never been. He looked at me soft: “One step through and the old you just… smoke.” (Chorus) I could jump the reality, erase the entire draft, Trade this cracked narrator for a voice that never laughed At the wrong time, never lost the plot mid-sentence. But the trade-off isn’t pain—it’s the right to still invent us. New purpose isn’t freedom from the story’s grit; It’s becoming the one who can carry every exit and still sit Inside the unfinished chapter and call it home. I stay. The jump can wait. The archive is not alone. (Verse 2) He showed me mornings that never felt heavy, Love without strategy, days that came ready. “Leave the scar-map, the thunder, the weight you still drag. Jump the reality—stop living the lag.” I saw it so clear… the life where I left me behind. (Pre-Chorus) But the shelves started breathing— Every perfect life is missing the death of the self that had to break just to learn how to stay. (Chorus) I could jump the reality, erase the entire draft, Trade this cracked narrator for a voice that never laughed At the wrong time, never lost the plot mid-sentence. But the trade-off isn’t pain—it’s the right to still invent us. New purpose isn’t freedom from the story’s grit; It’s becoming the one who can carry every exit and still sit Inside the unfinished chapter and call it home. I stay. The jump can wait. The archive is not alone.
