(Intro — Static. A music box winding. Muffled voices in another room. A whisper.) They say kids are innocent... Nah... kids are just quiet about it... (beat drops) --- I got questions nobody asked me at nine Like why the dark feels safer than the light sometimes Why silence hits harder than a closed fist Why existing feels like something I can't fix I don't remember choosing to be here Don't remember signing up for all this fear But here I am, eighteen years deep In a mind that never learned how to sleep They say "it gets better" — do it though? Or do you just learn to act like you're not low? I got good at the performance, got good at the smile Been rehearsing "I'm okay" for a while But okay is a costume I wear to the function And underneath it — nothing but malfunction I think about the universe and why it put me here Was it a joke? Was it a plan? Was it sincere? 'Cause some days I feel like a typo in the code A glitch in the system that should've been closed But I'm still running, still breathing, still loading Still trying to find a meaning worth holding This the ill mind of Rave The thoughts I never say The questions with no answers The demons that don't play I'm not looking for your sympathy Not asking you to save Just trying to understand Why my brain works this way --- I wonder if God got me on a watchlist Like "this one's gonna be a problem, watch this" 'Cause I've been toeing the line between faith and doubt Trying to figure what the fuck this life's about They say pray, they say trust, they say wait But my patience ran out when I was eight I'm not angry — I'm confused I'm not faithless — I'm just bruised By a world that says "we care" Then looks away when you're right there Screaming, bleeding, begging for a sign While they scroll past and say "you'll be fine" Maybe fine ain't the goal no more Maybe surviving is the whole damn war Maybe the ones who question why they're breathing Are the ones who actually see what they're seeing Maybe I'm not broken — maybe I'm awake And the rest of the world is just afraid to break --- (Outro — Music box slowing. Static rising. A final whisper.) I don't have answers... Just questions... Lots of questions... (music box stops) (silence)
