Puzzle

[Intro — low, close] I found a piece under the table. I found a piece behind the rain. I found a piece inside a silence that had forgotten my name. [Verse 1] There were rooms I could not enter. There were doors I called a wall. There were years that moved around me like a badly answered call. I had maps of other people. I had theories neatly dressed. But my own life kept arriving with a hand against its chest. Then someone said: do not run from it. Do not fight the hidden scar. If you want to find the exit, start by knowing where you are. [Pre-Chorus] So I gathered all the fragments, not as proof and not as blame. Every broken little picture had been waiting for its frame. [Chorus] This is the memory game. This is the puzzle of fire and rain. Piece by piece, I come back through the pain. This is the memory game. Not a prison, not a chain. If I can name what I remember, I can learn to live again. [Verse 2] There was childhood in the wallpaper. There was thunder in the hall. There was laughter in a photograph that did not laugh at all. There were rivers I had crossed once, cities sleeping in my shoes, all the vanished little mornings I had never meant to lose. And the past was not a monster. No. The past was not a judge. It was only one dark cupboard where the light had learned to smudge. [Pre-Chorus] So I opened one more window. So I moved one careful stone. And the house I thought was haunted started sounding like my own. [Chorus] This is the memory game. This is the puzzle of fire and rain. Piece by piece, I come back through the pain. This is the memory game. Not a prison, not a chain. If I can name what I remember, I can learn to live again. [Bridge — spoken-sung, over driving bass] This is the harder part. A man is not healed by being told to forget. Forgetting is easy. Any dark room can do it. The harder art is to return with a candle, look at the pieces, and say: yes, even this belongs to me. [Verse 3] So here’s to every lost beginning. Here’s to every secret door. Here’s to those who went inside themselves and came back something more. Here’s to fear that lost its kingdom. Here’s to grief that learned to speak. Here’s to all the scattered people finding strength in what was weak. I am not what happened to me. I am not what I denied. I am the one who crossed the room and found the child inside. [Final Chorus — bigger, life-affirming] This is the memory game. This is the puzzle of fire and rain. Piece by piece, I come back through the pain. This is the memory game. Not a prison, not a chain. If I can hold what I remember, I can choose to live again. This is the memory game. This is the road through loss and flame. Before and after call each other by the same human name. [Outro — soft but steady] I found a piece under the table. I found a piece behind the rain. And when I placed the last one gently, I did not end. I began.