THE LAST CHAIN [Intro — low voice, sparse bells over a hard 808] Gold in the glass. Cold on the ground. Who won? Who won? [Hook — clipped, chant-like] Dead idols don’t spend on chains no more. Death is a chain no money can unlock. Died before the wisdom could loosen the links— Gold still shines when the whole block stops. Who won? Who won? Tell me who won. Name goes up; the voice goes gone. Who won? Who won? Tell me who won. The song stays up, but the life moves on. [Verse 1] Gold windows hang like moons over the street, A cracked phone makes a kingdom look close enough to reach. The feed shows the wrist; cuts the hands from the frame, Shows the shine, skips the years, never shows who got paid. The door stays locked. The towers stay lit. A boy counts the floors from the curb where he sits. They sell him a crown that can’t carry its weight, A fast road through the dark with a dead-end gate. Some grow up hearing, “Never back down.” Anger hangs framed in the hall of the house. The grown ones bless what they’d curse in a stranger, Then call the child a monster for learning their language. [Hook] Dead idols don’t spend on chains no more. Death is a chain no money can unlock. Died before the wisdom could loosen the links— Gold still shines when the whole block stops. Who won? Who won? Tell me who won. Name goes up; the voice goes gone. Who won? Who won? Tell me who won. The song stays up, but the life moves on. [Verse 2] No porch light burning. No voice at the door. No family waiting on the second-floor. Still, a life has a right to outlast the night; A heart doesn’t need mourners to make it worth saving. Money means nothing when you’re alone at the end, Freezing on the concrete, with no one, no friend— Lying in the same spot you used to catch the bus to school. Same curb. Same cold. No way to undo. The morning route bends back around. The old stop keeps what the gold couldn’t buy. A kid once waited there with the day in his hands; Now the street holds its breath when the sirens pass. [Bridge — beat drops back; voice close and steady] I cursed the smoke rising over the town. Then saw my own face in the glass looking down. I’m not outside the frame, not clean of the stain. We all learn the chorus. We all help it remain. The rich buy the locks. The poor wear the blame. The screen sells the fire, then forgets every name. I’m angry at the wheel, at the hands, at the gears— At the ones who sell the match, then disappear. [Final Hook — full drums, layered voices] Dead idols don’t spend on chains no more. Death is a chain no money can unlock. Died before the wisdom could loosen the links— Gold still shines when the whole block stops. Who won? Who won? Tell me who won. Name goes up; the voice goes gone. Who won? Who won? Tell me who won. The song stays up, but the life moves on. [Outro — drums fade; bells remain] Same curb. Same cold. Same route home. Dead idols don’t spend on chains no more. Who won?
