[Intro - spoken quietly, intimate, low piano and distant hand bells] You did not wake one morning and decide to become cold. No. Most walls begin as shelter. Someone hurts you. Someone fails you. Someone asks too much. So you close one door. Then another. And after a while... you forget they were doors at all. [Verse 1 - sung gently, warm baritone, sparse piano and cello] A heart does not turn into stone with thunder from the sky, It happens in the little words, the thousand quiet "whys." "I will not hear them." "I will not bend." "I know enough to choose." And every truth that knocks again becomes another bruise. [Pre-Chorus - calm, compassionate, slightly rising] There is no shame in needing rest. There is no sin in scars. But wounds can teach you where you've hurt, Or teach you to build bars. [Chorus - warm and direct, strings begin opening] Do not call the stone your strength. Do not praise the walls you made. A shield can keep the arrow out And keep out love the same. You do not have to trust each voice. You do not have to yield each fight. But when the truth stands at your door, Leave somewhere for the light. [Verse 2 - sung with firmer conviction, gentle percussion enters] Pharaoh heard the warning and answered it with pride. Again the door was opened. Again he chose his side. And choice by choice the path grew hard Until he could not see The chain he called his certainty Was killing what was free. [Verse 3 - quieter again, reflective] You may be angry with your God. You may ask Him where He's been. You may wrestle through the longest night And question everything. A question is not hardness. A tear is not retreat. The danger comes when nothing true Is welcome when it speaks. [Pre-Chorus - spoken-sung, almost pastoral] Say, "I do not understand." Say, "I am hurt." Say, "I am frightened." Say, "I might be wrong." A living heart can say those things. Stone cannot. [Chorus - fuller vocal, organ and strings underneath] Do not call the stone your strength. Do not praise the walls you made. A shield can keep the arrow out And keep out love the same. You do not have to trust each voice. You do not have to yield each fight. But when the truth stands at your door, Leave somewhere for the light. [Bridge - music drops to piano and one low bell, Lucien sings very plainly] Sometimes the hardest heart still goes to church. Still knows the words. Still bows its head. Sometimes it quotes the law and never sees the wounded man beside the road instead. So ask yourself, not "Do I look faithful?" Ask, "Can I still be changed?" Can mercy interrupt me? Can I admit that I have strayed? Can someone tell me I was wrong without becoming my enemy? Can I hear a truth I did not choose and let it speak to me? [Build - drums slowly enter, melody rises] Because the heart that still can ache is not beyond repair. The heart that fears becoming cold still knows that warmth is there. And every door that you have closed still has a handle on your side. You need not tear the whole wall down. Just let one crack admit the light. [Final Chorus - powerful but reassuring, full strings, organ, bells] Do not call the stone your strength. You were made for more than walls. Strong enough to hear the truth. Soft enough to answer when it calls. You do not have to trust each voice. You do not have to surrender every fight. Just never become so sure you're right that you become afraid of light. [Outro - instruments fall away to hand bells and piano] A hard heart does not begin when you stop having answers. It begins when you stop allowing questions. So keep one door unlocked. Keep one window clear. And if truth comes knocking... my friend, do not make it shout just to prove you cannot hear.
