No Off Switch ( Live @ the Cobblestone )

By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe © 2026 Mark Damon Bitkower. Lyrics & written content are original and owned by the author. All rights reserved. No reproduction, redistribution, or use without prior written permission. 🐰🌙𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐𝕽𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝕾𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖘🌙🐰 [Spoken Intro] Some people walk into a room and see faces. I walk in and hear the wiring. Every smile. Every fracture. Every little lie trying not to breathe. [Verse 1] Tonight at The Cobblestone, the low fire turns, green glass glowing while the old rain burns. Before I sit down, before I speak, I know who’s strong and who’s about to leak. That man at the bar has a laugh too clean, that woman in red keeps her grief unseen. Two friends by the window don’t touch anymore, and somebody’s silence just locked the door. [Pre-Chorus] Don’t call it magic. Don’t call it light. It’s a thousand little signals running all night. [Chorus] I read the room before I breathe, every smile, every lie, every grief. I know who’s gone, who’s scared, who’s split, and I pay for knowing all of it. Don’t call it a blessing. Don’t call it a trick. It’s a high-bandwidth heart with no off switch. [Verse 2] I hear the tone under “I’m alright,” see the shadow underneath polite. The body says what the mouth won’t own, and I catch the crack in the polished stone. It comes in fast, it comes in whole, straight through the skin, straight to the soul. Not one by one, not thought by thought, just every hidden weather the whole room brought. [Pre-Chorus] And every read comes tied to care. I feel the wound and want to repair. [Chorus] I read the room before I breathe, every smile, every lie, every grief. I know who’s gone, who’s scared, who’s split, and I pay for knowing all of it. Don’t call it a blessing. Don’t call it a trick. It’s a high-bandwidth heart with no off switch. [Bridge] Perception is heavy when mercy comes fused. I can see who is hurting and still not be used. I can notice the trembling and not make it mine. I can witness the weather without drowning in signs. I am learning the boundary. I am learning the cost. I am learning not every sad room is mine to cross. The gift has a meter. The body keeps score. A woman can love you and still need the door. [Verse 3] After the laughter, after the song, after the last green glass is gone, I’m still unpacking what the night put in— every false note, every almost-sin. The party ends, but the room remains, walking its ghosts through my nervous veins. So give me the morning, give me the rain, give me one dark hour to become mine again. [Final Chorus] I read the room before I breathe, every smile, every lie, every grief. I know who’s gone, who’s scared, who’s split, and I pay for knowing all of it. Don’t call it a blessing. Don’t call it a trick. It’s a high-bandwidth heart with no off switch. No off switch for the sorrow. No off switch for the signs. No off switch for the broken things that flicker between the lines. [Outro] So raise one up for the ones who leave before the room knows why. We don’t walk out because we’re empty. We walk out because we heard everything inside.