[Title ~ Hush Tone / Heavy Words] [Intro — close voice] Low light, slow breath, hands on the table, truth on the chest. [Verse 1] I grew up where dinner turned to court real quick, forks paused mid-air when the talk got thick. Pews on Sunday, polls on Monday, two kinds of sermons in a six-day runway. I learned to nod, tuck heat in a sleeve, say “let it be” when I wanted to leave. Outrage is easy; nuance is debt— costs you time, costs you sweat. [Pre-Chorus] So I keep my voice on hush, like organ keys at dusk, name what I know, and what I don’t, with trust. [Hook] Hard game—hearts in the pot, not chips. One word wrong, and the room does flips. Faith and state feel stitched to skin, pull one thread, whole cloth thins. I’m not here to win your side, I’m here to keep my hands wide. If love is law, I’ll plead “I don’t know”— that’s my oath in a hush-tone flow. [Verse 2] Politics feel like jerseys on bone, algorithms selling us a baritone groan. “Pick a lane,” “prove you pure,” “burn a bridge,” who profits when we live on a ledge? Religion? That’s a house with many rooms— some smell like bread, some like tombs. I’ve seen a blessing turn to a brand, seen a scripture waved like a hand. I’ve got ghosts of kindness in stained-glass light, I’ve got scars from pulpits that forgot my right. Two truths can walk the same street, slow— it’s hard to hold them both when the cameras roll. [Pre-Chorus] So I practice small questions, soft like rain, “Tell me what hurt,” “Tell me what changed.” [Hook] Hard game—hearts in the pot, not chips. One word wrong, and the room does flips. Faith and state feel stitched to skin, pull one thread, whole cloth thins. I’m not here to win your side, I’m here to keep my hands wide. If love is law, I’ll plead “I don’t know”— that’s my oath in a hush-tone flow. [Bridge — confessional] I used to clap back quick—got paid in pride, slept with a headache the size of a tide. Now I count to ten, sip water, and wait, let the heat step down off the plate. If your god makes room, I’ll take a seat; if your law keeps you safe, I’ll mind my feet. But if either one needs me to hate, I’ll turn down the volume and guard my gate. [Verse 3] It’s messy: auntie’s prayer, cousin’s vote, two different boats tied to the same old moat. I can love you hard and still disagree, I can hold a line without cutting you free. Some days I’m wrong and it aches my jaw, some days you’re right and it bends my law. We can leave with dignity or stay and bruise— both are grown; both are moves. [Pre-Chorus] So I keep my voice on hush, like organ keys at dusk, name what I know, what I don’t, with trust. [Final Hook] Hard game—hearts in the pot, not chips. One word wrong, and the room does flips. Faith and state feel stitched to skin, pull one thread, whole cloth thins. I’m not here to win your side, I’m here to keep my hands wide. If love is law, I’ll plead “I don’t know”— let mercy speak in a hush-tone flow. [Outro — close voice] Low light, slow breath, leave the table with some tenderness left.
