[INTRO – SOLO PIANO + LOW VIOLIN] (Piano plays a slow, uneven four-note phrase. Violin answers it one octave higher.) (MALE – SPOKEN, TIRED) I’m not proud of it. I’m not stronger because of it. I’m still here. That’s all I’ve got. [PIANO LOW NOTE] And some days that has to be enough. [DROP – VIOLIN / PIANO PHRASE REPEATED BY GUITARS] (Full band crashes in. Guitar copies the intro piano rhythm with crushing low chugs. Double kick erupts underneath.) [VERSE 1 – LOW GROWL / HEAVY STOMP] I’m sick of hearing people talk like they know what this takes. Never woke up already pissed that they opened their eyes today. Never sat in a quiet room trying not to do something permanent. Never had to find one reason to make it through another fucking minute. I grew up around yelling. Doors slamming. Cops outside. Adults losing their shit while the kids learned how to hide. So don’t tell me what strength looks like. I know what it costs. [PRE-BREAK – PIANO + VIOLIN BUILD] (Piano repeats faster. Violin climbs above it. Guitar slowly joins the exact same pattern.) (MALE – GRIT) You weren’t there. You didn’t live it. So don’t tell me how I should’ve handled it. [BREAKDOWN 1 – DEAD SPACE / MASSIVE LOW CHUGS] (MALE – GUTTURAL) I. FUCKING. STAYED. [HIT] WHEN I DIDN’T WANT TO. [HIT] WHEN I DIDN’T KNOW WHY. [HIT] WHEN GETTING THROUGH THE NIGHT WAS THE ONLY FUCKING PLAN I HAD. [VERSE 2 – FAST RAP-METAL DELIVERY] Addiction showed up early. Anger came right behind it. Bad decisions. Bad nights. Plenty I’d rather keep private. I’ve been close enough that I know exactly what that thought feels like. But I’m standing in this room right now, so apparently I made it through that night. And before somebody turns that into some inspirational shit, don’t. There wasn’t some big revelation. There wasn’t a voice from above. Sometimes I stayed because of my kids. Sometimes I stayed out of spite. Sometimes I stayed because five more minutes felt easier than giving up that night. That’s it. That’s the truth. [CHORUS – HUGE SHOUTED HOOK] DON’T CALL ME WEAK WHEN I’M STILL FUCKING HERE DON’T CALL ME BROKEN LIKE I DISAPPEARED I NEVER SAID I HAD THIS FIGURED OUT I JUST KEPT GETTING UP WHEN I WANTED OUT NO SPEECH NO FUCKING VICTORY I’M HERE THAT’S ENOUGH FOR ME [INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE – PIANO SOLO] (Band drops away.) (Piano takes the original intro phrase and expands into a dark, frantic solo. Heavy left-hand chords underneath fast upper-register runs.) (Drums slowly return.) (Guitar begins doubling the left-hand piano rhythm.) [VIOLIN SOLO] (Violin enters over the piano, starting restrained before ripping into aggressive runs, bends, tremolo and high sustained notes.) (Guitar joins the violin melody note-for-note, then drops an octave lower.) [DUAL SOLO – VIOLIN + LEAD GUITAR] (Violin and guitar trade phrases while piano pounds underneath.) [BREAKDOWN 2 – MAIN RIFF RETURNS] (MALE – LOW GUTTURAL) YOU WANT THE REASON? HERE IT IS. [HIT] MY KIDS. [HIT] MY ANGER. [HIT] PURE FUCKING STUBBORNNESS. [HIT] SOMETIMES THAT WAS ALL I HAD. (MALE – LAYERED FRY SCREAM) BUT IT FUCKING WORKED! [DOUBLE-KICK EXPLOSION] [FINAL VERSE – EXHAUSTED GRIT] I know I’m hard to deal with. I know I shut people out. I know I can turn one bad minute into everybody getting the hell away from me. I know. You don’t have to explain me like I haven’t lived with myself this whole time. I don’t need another person telling me what’s wrong with me. I’ve had years to memorize the list. Some days I’m a good dad. Some days I’m barely holding my temper. Some days I laugh until my stomach hurts. Some days I don’t want to talk to anybody. That’s a person. That’s me. Take it or don’t. [FINAL CHORUS – FULL BAND / ORCHESTRAL] DON’T CALL ME WEAK WHEN I’M STILL FUCKING HERE DON’T CALL ME BROKEN LIKE I DISAPPEARED I NEVER SAID I HAD THIS FIGURED OUT I JUST KEPT GETTING UP WHEN I WANTED OUT NO TROPHY NO FUCKING VICTORY I’M HERE I’M STILL FUCKING HERE [FINAL BREAKDOWN – PIANO / VIOLIN / GUITAR UNISON] (Piano, violin and guitar hammer the same descending phrase.) (MALE – GUTTURAL) I DIDN’T WIN. [HIT] I DIDN’T HEAL. [HIT] I DIDN’T TURN INTO SOME BETTER FUCKING VERSION OF MYSELF. [LONG PAUSE] I JUST… DIDN’T… LEAVE. [FINAL MASSIVE HIT] [OUTRO – SOLO PIANO + VIOLIN] (The opening piano progression returns slower.) (Violin holds one long note above it.) (MALE – SPOKEN, QUIET) Tomorrow might suck. Probably will. I’ll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.
