[Intro] T-minus ten. Childhood. T-minus nine. Responsibility. T-minus eight. Poverty. T-minus seven. War. T-minus six. Silence. T-minus five. Loss. T-minus four. Shame. T-minus three. Anger. T-minus two. Hypervigilance. T-minus one. Fear. T-minus zero. Fear loses. Launch. [Rap] Astrophysicists say gravity is weak. Then explain generations. Explain why a century can die and still leave fingerprints. The names change. The cities change. The language changes. But somehow the river still finds the same damn ocean. My great-grandfather became a man at ten. The Great Influenza. One morning he was a child. That evening he was carrying a family. No warning. No choice. Just responsibility. Just survival. Just gravity. Maybe that’s where the gravity well began. Not with evil. Not with cruelty. Just fear becoming structure. [Melodic] A burden becomes a lesson. A lesson becomes a rule. A rule becomes a family. A family becomes a system. [Chorus] ESCAPE VELOCITY! I CAN FEEL IT PULLING UNDERNEATH ME! ESCAPE VELOCITY! A HUNDRED YEARS OF MOTION INSIDE ME! Different orbit! Same singularity! ESCAPE VELOCITY! EVERY GENERATION CALLING IT DESTINY! [Rap] My grandfather carried poverty. The kind that teaches hunger before it teaches hope. The Navy gave structure to a mind already moving faster than the room. Nobody had words for it then. Patterns. Obsession. Difference. He knew something inside him could become dangerous. So he worked nights. Missed dinners. Missed birthdays. Trying to keep his storms away from his children. Then life took something back. A daughter who burned too bright. Gifted. Different. Gone too young. And grief changed the shape of the family. Some losses become stories. Some become shadows. The poverty ended. The uniform came off. The grief stayed. Different burden. Same gravity. [Chorus] ESCAPE VELOCITY! I CAN FEEL THE GRAVITY PULLING! ESCAPE VELOCITY! I CAN FEEL THE WEIGHT OF HISTORY! Different orbit! Same singularity! ESCAPE VELOCITY! EVERY GENERATION CALLING IT NORMAL! [Rap] My father grew up in the shadow of loss. One child became memory. The other became expectation. Difference became defect. Questions became disrespect. So he built success like a fortress. Money became proof. Work became identity. Achievement became religion. A millionaire still arguing with ghosts. The accounts grew. The houses grew. So did the distance. Success became another kind of silence. No friends. No peace. No finish line. Just another wall. Another orbit. Pain follows gravity. Into the well. Into children. Into futures. Into me. I learned labor before childhood. Performance before belonging. And one day I watched that gravity reach for my better half. Reach for my children. Trying to claim another generation. That was the moment. Not anger. Recognition. The map wasn’t enough. Somebody had to change course. [Spoken] People think trauma travels through blood. Maybe. I think it travels through conclusions. A child concludes responsibility matters more than joy. A poor man concludes survival matters more than rest. A grieving father concludes love disappears overnight. A wounded son concludes success matters more than connection. And suddenly… a century has passed. [Breakdown] I CAN FEEL IT IN MY REFLEXES! I CAN FEEL IT IN MY FEARS! I CAN FEEL THE GRAVITY PULLING THROUGH MY BONES! I CAN FEEL THE GRAVITY TRYING TO NAME MY FUTURE! ESCAPE VELOCITY! ESCAPE VELOCITY! ESCAPE VELOCITY! [Spoken] My great-grandfather carried the family. My grandfather carried poverty, discipline, grief, and awareness. My father carried anger, wealth, and ghosts. And I carried the map. Maybe none of you were weak. Maybe all of you were surviving. Forgive me. Not for leaving. But for refusing to stay. How dare that my children inherit less fear. Less shame. Less silence. Because I finally understand you. I understand the burden. The fear. The silence. The grief. But understanding isn’t surrender. I refuse to submit to the singularity. I understand you. But I am not you. I am what comes next. [Final Chorus] ESCAPE VELOCITY! A HUNDRED YEARS OF GRAVITY! ESCAPE VELOCITY! BREAKING ORBIT FINALLY! ESCAPE VELOCITY! A HUNDRED YEARS OF FEAR! I REFUSE THE ORBIT! I REFUSE THE SINGULARITY! I REFUSE TO SUBMIT TO THE SINGULARITY! I UNDERSTAND THE MACHINE! I REFUSE TO BECOME THE MACHINE! ESCAPE VELOCITY! [Clean] The black hole pulled you. The black hole pulled me. Maybe that’s all any of us were. Life following the orbit we inherited. But orbits can turn. And people can too. If I don’t reach the stars… At least I made it to the moon. Far enough that my children won’t have to launch from where I did. Far enough that they can choose their own horizon.
