the courage without source

(Verse 1) We never stopped believing. We only changed the stage. In blue light, in incense glow, in the sharpest phrase, sits the same old thirst — the same old thirst. One voice seals the rift with terror, another tears it wide and calls it grace. Prayers weigh the heavens, mantras carve the body into shrine, concepts build their bridges over the abyss. All of them whisper, in different tongues, the same quiet lie: Without us… you will fall. (Chorus – melodic, open, repeatable) Freedom doesn’t begin with the right source, it begins with the courage to live without one. Freedom doesn’t begin with the right source, it begins with the courage… to live without one. (Verse 2) So many masks. So many camps. One face that refuses to meet itself. The father, the savior, the enlightened, the thinker — all carry the same hidden voice, the same hidden voice, drowning out the silence, so our own breathing won’t grow too loud, and the emptiness stays unseen — stays unseen. (Bridge – stripped back, almost spoken) The thirst is not for truth. The thirst is for the voice — for the voice that fills the void. (Verse 3 – slower, spacious) Truth is not a place you finally reach. It is the quiet practice of holding the emptiness — holding it… until it stops being empty, until it becomes something that needs no borrowed name. No new light from outside. No final word. Only your own breathing, in the unmasked silence, finding its own uncertain rhythm — at last. (Final Chorus – softer, whispered, long reverb, fade) We never stopped believing… Freedom doesn’t begin with the right source, it begins with the courage to live without one. Freedom doesn’t begin with the right source… it begins with the courage… to live without one.