[Intro — spoken, low and intimate] They said, “God’s stripping you down.” Maybe that’s what rock bottom is. Not the place where you die— The place where you finally stop carrying what was killing you. [Verse 1] I walked out with no map, no plan, no destination, just tired of negotiating with somebody else’s devastation. Said I’d rather hit the pavement than keep begging for a place, I spent half my life apologizing for the shape of my own face. And I thought I could fix it, thought I could love it into right, thought if I tried hard enough I could finally earn the night. But some doors don't open when you bleed against the frame, and some people want your forgiveness more than they ever want to change. So I stood there in the wreckage with my pride beneath my feet, and the hardest thing I learned was I don't have to call defeat. [Pre-Chorus — rising] Don't fault me for the trying. Don't shame me for the fall. I gave everything I had and I still couldn't save it all. I spent my whole life saying sorry, like existence was a crime. Now I'm grieving what I wanted— but I'm leaving it behind. [Chorus — full vocal] Put it in a box, lock the key, throw that motherfucker in the deep blue sea. Let the old me sink, let the old ghosts swim, I don't owe my life to the person I was then. Knocked down two steps? Fine. I'll climb back up. I ain't begging for permission, I ain't calling that love. When the world gets loud, when the old wounds roar— I remember what I'm fighting for: You and yours. You and yours. That's the mantra now. You and yours. [Verse 2] Rock bottom had a funny way of making things plain, when you've got nothing left to lose you stop bargaining with pain. I said, “How the hell did I do this one more time?” But maybe that's the question that was keeping me confined. You can't teach an old dog if the dog don't wanna learn, but I'm still alive, so there's still something left to burn. Maybe change ain't one decision. Maybe change is getting up every morning after failure and refusing to call it “us.” I'm not gonna beat myself for believing I could heal it. I'm not gonna call myself stupid just because I really felt it. I tried. I stayed. I gave. I broke. Now I'm learning there's a difference between love and losing hope. [Bridge — stripped beat, spoken] They told me: “Don't kill yourself worrying about what you owe.” And maybe that wasn't just about fifty dollars. Maybe it was everything. Every debt. Every apology. Every promise I kept making to people who kept breaking me. Maybe I don't have to pay for surviving. [Beat drops back in] [Verse 3] So here's my new equation: less guilt, more truth. Less explaining why I hurt, more protecting what is good. No more standing at the doorway waiting for somebody's call, no more measuring my worth by who refuses to show up at all. If I leave, I leave standing. If I grieve, I let it hurt. If I love, I love with boundaries. If I fall, I learn the dirt. 'Cause getting knocked down ain't the end of the fight. Sometimes rock bottom is just where you finally see the light. [Final Chorus — bigger, layered vocals] Put it in a box, lock the key, throw that motherfucker in the deep blue sea. Let the old me sink, let the old ghosts swim, I don't owe my life to the person I was then. Knocked down two steps? Fine. I'll climb back up. I ain't begging for permission, I ain't calling that love. When the world gets loud, when the old wounds roar— I remember what I'm fighting for: You and yours. You and yours. That's the mantra now. You and yours. [Outro — spoken over fading piano] I tried my hardest. Don't fault me for that. I survived the lesson. Now I get to live it. You and yours. That's it. You and yours.
