Verse 1 You wrote down every injury, every scar I've learned to hide. Said don't bend and don't keep lifting, don't stand or sit too long at a time. You mapped the pain across my body, line by line for all to read, Then somehow reached another answer... that doesn't fit the man you see. Pre-Chorus Every page says "limited"... every page says "care." So why's the final chapter pretending hope is there? Chorus You call it probability... I call it borrowed doubt. One little word can close a door while leaving no way out. You know what I can't physically do, you've written every line. Yet somehow I'm still measured against a different life than mine. Verse 2 No twisting, no lifting, can't stay seated, can't stand. Every rule you gave my body took another piece of who I am. But somewhere in the paperwork, between the truth and "maybe", A possibility became the thing that finally breaks me. Bridge I'm not asking for a miracle. I'm not asking you to pretend. Just judge me by the life I live... not one that might have been. Final Chorus Don't build a future from "perhaps," don't measure hope with "may." When evidence points one direction, don't simply look away. Because probability's a word... but this pain is real to me. I'm still standing through the fire... Don't let a "maybe" define me. Outro You can keep your probability... I'll keep my truth.
