[Intro | breath+piano] Grateful… Cold morning air in my lungs. Coffee bitter on my tongue. Rain living on the window. My shadow beside me like— “Yeah. We made it.” [Verse 1 | boots+gravel] Grateful for mornings nobody ruins, cold floorboards under my feet, sunlight crawling through the kitchen showing where the darkness sleeps. Smoke leaves my mouth without putting up a fight. Spent years learning from smoke: some things survive because they know when to leave. [Pre | cello circles rear] I still taste iron when old memories speak. Still feel those winters somewhere under my skin. But today the air smells like rain. I’m breathing it in. [Chorus | wide] I’m grateful. Not because it didn’t hurt. I’m grateful ’cause I feel the earth under these muddy boots. Grateful for light. Grateful for bruises. Grateful for the shadow that remembers what I lose. I inhale peace. Exhale smoke. One road. Two footsteps. Me— and my shadow. [Verse 2 | tactile pulse] Nobody handed me a clean white shirt. I came home smelling like rain and dirt. Knuckles split. Cheap soap. Cold sink. Blood making pink rivers around the drain. That’s what becoming looked like. Not a crown. Not applause. Just another night I could’ve disappeared— and didn’t. Let ’em talk. They know my name like you know a street you’ve never walked at 3 A.M. [Break | silence] [Shadow] You remember? [Male] Every fucking step. [Verse 3 | warmer] Grateful for the ones who left early. You taught the room how beautiful empty can sound. Fake eyes. Plastic smiles. Hands shaking mine while measuring my back. You sharpened something in me. Not hate. Sight. Now I hear dishonesty before the sentence lands. Smell rain before the sky admits it. Feel goodbye in the temperature of a hand. [Build | heartbeat] Money comes. Money goes. Doors open. Names fade. But some things nobody knows how to price: A clear conscience. A quiet room. Someone you trust. One full breath after thinking you had none left. [Chorus | full sensory bloom] I’m grateful. For bitter. For sweet. For gravel grinding under my feet. For cold on my face. Fire in my chest. Every scar my fingertips recognize in the dark. Grateful for the light that doesn’t lie. Grateful for the dark that taught my eyes. I inhale peace. Exhale smoke. One road. Two footsteps. Still walking. [Bridge | body sounds+cello] I thought strength was never bending. Nah. Strength was hearing myself crack and staying to learn the sound. Tasting blood without becoming hungry for revenge. Touching the scar without reopening it. Then waking one ordinary morning, hearing birds outside, and realizing— I wasn’t at war anymore. [Silence] That one got me. [Final | huge width, intimate voice] So I’m grateful for this body still carrying my name. These lungs pulling morning through me. These rough hands still able to hold instead of only fight. For roads smelling of wet earth. For songs inside the noise. For every touch that taught my skin it wasn’t armor. And you— [Shadow circles behind] my shadow. You never dragged me forward. Never promised me shit. You just stayed when the light couldn’t. [Outro | piano+cello+breath] Grateful… for what came. for what left. for what hurt. for what healed. Coffee is still bitter. Rain still smells like rain. Music still raises the hair on my arms… and I’m still here to notice. [Shadow] Still here. [Male] Yeah. That’s enough. [OUT:two footsteps→one rhythm]
