Cracked Glass & Garden Roses

UK acoustic rap, spoken word, observational storytelling, bardcore, folk hop, acoustic guitar loop, british male vocals, scroobius pip style, ren style, third person narrative, cinematic, emotional

[Intro | Sound of park ambience, birds chirping, then a match striking]
(Acoustic guitar loop begins - melancholic but steady)
[Spoken Word Intro]
I sat on a bench, watched the world go by today.
Saw an Old Man watching a girl in the distance play.
Well, she wasn't a girl, she was a mother, holding a child of her own.
But I could see the Old Man’s memories, chilling him to the bone.
He wasn't looking at the woman standing there tall.
He was looking through the years, remembering it all.
[Verse 1 - Slow and Rhythmic]
He’s rewinding the tape to nineteen-ninety-seven.
Seventeen months after her brother, a little gift from heaven.
Jack was the engine, always running, tearing up the track.
But Rose was the passenger, looking forward, glancing back.
The Old Man remembers a smiley princess, that’s what he used to say.
A grin that could melt a glacier on a winter’s day.
But his favourite scene? The one that he holds dear:
The work done, chaos gone, the evening clear.
Just five minutes each. That was the sacred deal.
Lying on the carpet. Asking how they feel.
He remembers drifting off, just him and her...
To the sound of a faint little snore, buzzing in his ear.
A little cuddle monster, safe in the atmosphere.
Before the world taught her anything about fear.
[Verse 2 - Building Tension]
But growing up is a gamble, and the dice are loaded.
He saw Jack rise up, saw his social life exploded.
The boy had the crew, the confidence, the easy way of walking.
But he watched Rose on the sidelines, listening to the talking.
She didn’t have the armor. She didn't have the shell.
He couldn't explain why kids turn playgrounds into hell.
“Why are they nasty, Dad?” She asked him for the answer.
He watched the anxiety grow in the silence like a cancer.
He remembers the wet sheets. The nights she couldn't stay dry.
Shame is a heavy coat to wear when you’re barely knee-high.
He saw her turn to the pantry, finding comfort in the food.
Trying to fill the empty space, trying to fix the mood.
He tried to protect her while the world sharpened its claws.
But she was already looking for the flaws.
[Chorus - Melodic and Emotive]
(Sung from the perspective of the Narrator observing the Old Man)
Oh, look at the Old Man, tell me what does he see?
Does he see the wreckage? Or who she grew up to be?
They threw their stones, tried to smash her world apart.
But he knows you can’t break the glass if there's iron in the heart.
Yeah, it’s a beautiful mess.
It’s a beautiful mess.
[Verse 3 - Minimal Bass, Darker Tone]
Two-thousand and seven. The Old Man dips his head.
Remembering the year the sky turned black and heavy as lead.
Nan was the rock. Lived with them for years.
Then the diagnosis came, confirming all the fears.
Terminal. That word hanging in the air like smoke.
Ten months of caring, watching the strongest woman broke.
He saw Rose devastated. Her safe space gone.
And before they could breathe, before the breaking of the dawn...
The Old Man lost his father too. Sudden. No goodbye.
Two pillars crumbled. Two stars fell out the sky.
One year. Two funerals. A house full of ghosts.
And he knew who felt it deepest, he knew who hurt the most.
The girl in the corner, holding onto the grief.
Waiting for a summer that was barely a leaf.
[Verse 4 - Fast Flow, Aggressive, Intense]
And then the sharks smelled blood. Yeah, the school years, son.
He watched her fight a battle that had only just begun.
Bullying isn’t just names. It’s a systematic dismantling.
Of everything she was, a psychological handling.
She had a few friends. The timid ones. The prey.
Huddling together just to make it through the day.
But the Old Man remembers when the darkness took a bite.
One friend didn’t make it. One friend lost the fight.
Taken by the shadows. A life cut short by the hate.
He stood by his daughter while she stared through the gate.
That’s when the mind fractures. That’s when the cracks appear.
BPD. Depression. The constant hum of fear.
A mental riot. A disorder? No, a reaction to the pain.
He watched her walk a straight line inside a hurricane.
[Bridge - Major Key Shift, Hopeful Acoustic]
But storms run out of rain eventually.
You keep walking until the landscape changes.
February, twenty-twenty-four.
He saw her find a man who didn't look at the floor.
He looked her in the eye. He saw the wars she’d fought.
He gave her the respect that couldn't be bought.
The Old Man walked her down the aisle, stood tall in the room.
Seeing the rose that survived the winter finally in bloom.
[Verse 5 - Gentle, Soft Spoken]
And now he sits on this bench. February twenty-five.
Watching the cycle turn around. Watching it arrive.
Little Dawn. The sunrise. Whatever name you call the light.
Born a month early, ready to start her own fight.
Tiny lungs screaming. Fragile and small.
But the Old Man sees his daughter, standing ten feet tall.
She’s holding the future. She’s breaking the chain.
She walked through the fire so the baby wouldn't feel the rain.
[Outro - Melodic Fade Out]

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[Intro | Sound of park ambience, birds chirping, then a match striking] (Acoustic guitar loop begins - melancholic but steady) [Spoken Word Intro] I sat on a bench, watched the world go by today. Saw an Old Man watching a girl in the distance play. Well, she wasn't a girl, she was a mother, holding a child of her own. But I could see the Old Man’s memories, chilling him to the bone. He wasn't looking at the woman standing there tall. He was looking through the years, remembering it all. [Verse 1 - Slow and Rhythmic] He’s rewinding the tape to nineteen-ninety-seven. Seventeen months after her brother, a little gift from heaven. Jack was the engine, always running, tearing up the track. But Rose was the passenger, looking forward, glancing back. The Old Man remembers a smiley princess, that’s what he used to say. A grin that could melt a glacier on a winter’s day. But his favourite scene? The one that he holds dear: The work done, chaos gone, the evening clear. Just five minutes each. That was the sacred deal. Lying on the carpet. Asking how they feel. He remembers drifting off, just him and her... To the sound of a faint little snore, buzzing in his ear. A little cuddle monster, safe in the atmosphere. Before the world taught her anything about fear. [Verse 2 - Building Tension] But growing up is a gamble, and the dice are loaded. He saw Jack rise up, saw his social life exploded. The boy had the crew, the confidence, the easy way of walking. But he watched Rose on the sidelines, listening to the talking. She didn’t have the armor. She didn't have the shell. He couldn't explain why kids turn playgrounds into hell. “Why are they nasty, Dad?” She asked him for the answer. He watched the anxiety grow in the silence like a cancer. He remembers the wet sheets. The nights she couldn't stay dry. Shame is a heavy coat to wear when you’re barely knee-high. He saw her turn to the pantry, finding comfort in the food. Trying to fill the empty space, trying to fix the mood. He tried to protect her while the world sharpened its claws. But she was already looking for the flaws. [Chorus - Melodic and Emotive] (Sung from the perspective of the Narrator observing the Old Man) Oh, look at the Old Man, tell me what does he see? Does he see the wreckage? Or who she grew up to be? They threw their stones, tried to smash her world apart. But he knows you can’t break the glass if there's iron in the heart. Yeah, it’s a beautiful mess. It’s a beautiful mess. [Verse 3 - Minimal Bass, Darker Tone] Two-thousand and seven. The Old Man dips his head. Remembering the year the sky turned black and heavy as lead. Nan was the rock. Lived with them for years. Then the diagnosis came, confirming all the fears. Terminal. That word hanging in the air like smoke. Ten months of caring, watching the strongest woman broke. He saw Rose devastated. Her safe space gone. And before they could breathe, before the breaking of the dawn... The Old Man lost his father too. Sudden. No goodbye. Two pillars crumbled. Two stars fell out the sky. One year. Two funerals. A house full of ghosts. And he knew who felt it deepest, he knew who hurt the most. The girl in the corner, holding onto the grief. Waiting for a summer that was barely a leaf. [Verse 4 - Fast Flow, Aggressive, Intense] And then the sharks smelled blood. Yeah, the school years, son. He watched her fight a battle that had only just begun. Bullying isn’t just names. It’s a systematic dismantling. Of everything she was, a psychological handling. She had a few friends. The timid ones. The prey. Huddling together just to make it through the day. But the Old Man remembers when the darkness took a bite. One friend didn’t make it. One friend lost the fight. Taken by the shadows. A life cut short by the hate. He stood by his daughter while she stared through the gate. That’s when the mind fractures. That’s when the cracks appear. BPD. Depression. The constant hum of fear. A mental riot. A disorder? No, a reaction to the pain. He watched her walk a straight line inside a hurricane. [Bridge - Major Key Shift, Hopeful Acoustic] But storms run out of rain eventually. You keep walking until the landscape changes. February, twenty-twenty-four. He saw her find a man who didn't look at the floor. He looked her in the eye. He saw the wars she’d fought. He gave her the respect that couldn't be bought. The Old Man walked her down the aisle, stood tall in the room. Seeing the rose that survived the winter finally in bloom. [Verse 5 - Gentle, Soft Spoken] And now he sits on this bench. February twenty-five. Watching the cycle turn around. Watching it arrive. Little Dawn. The sunrise. Whatever name you call the light. Born a month early, ready to start her own fight. Tiny lungs screaming. Fragile and small. But the Old Man sees his daughter, standing ten feet tall. She’s holding the future. She’s breaking the chain. She walked through the fire so the baby wouldn't feel the rain. [Outro - Melodic Fade Out]

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