[Verse 1] I mistook altitude for truth. The light felt clean inside my mouth. I said it was awakening. It was just distance from the ground. The structure thinned beneath my feet. The name I wore began to leak. What I called arrival was a fracture in the seat. [Pre-Chorus] High tide lifts. Ebb withdraws. Neither answers what it was. [Chorus] It isn’t the height. It isn’t the fall. It’s what remains when I’m not central at all. No heroics. No cure. Just holding the line against the floor. [Verse 2] Some pain breaks the body. Some pain swallows it whole. The cost of a self losing control. Inflation crowns the ordinary. Collapse declares it void. Both are forms of claiming what cannot be deployed. [Pre-Chorus] Call it spirit. Call it break. Either way the axis shakes. [Chorus] It isn’t the blaze. It isn’t the bruise. It’s the silence you cannot refuse. No spectacle. No throne. Just keeping the frame when I’m alone. [Bridge] I’ve built the lifeboats. I’ve checked the shore. I’ve closed the exits and counted four. But this fire has no flame to see. It burns through identity. Can I sit when nothing proves which level speaks... or who it moves? [Final Chorus] It isn’t ascent. It isn’t defeat. It’s standing unsure on unsteady feet. No mastery. No claim. Just the weight of the water... without a name. [Outro] High tide. Ebb. Ground instead.
