[intro] Two hands cradle a pocket sun, threads shining through the dark. Silhouettes hum like constellations on the wall. A Neon Fox prowls the hallway of my heart, tail lit in arcs, breathing static into truth so it can talk. [verse] Aged young—an orange speck on the wall vibrates in the night, Spec on The Wall says the kind of thing that makes a child hold their breath. I walk the carpet like a fuse toward the kitchen light, palms hot as little lanterns, ready for what’s next. [pre-chorus] Neon Fox, count the pulses in my hands. If I speak it, will the circuits understand? Let this tiny sun survive the span. [chorus] Neon Fox, race sparks along the wire, hold my hands around this pocket sun. Say it true so nothing feeds the fire— glow, glow, keep the house unburned. Sketch the map of every choice I’ve learned; when I speak it straight, you give me back my voice. [verse] Looking back, I’m unsure if I listened or dreamt— morning came, roof unscorched, fear still warm. I wore bravery like a borrowed element, pretending calm while thunder shaped my form. [pre-chorus] Neon Fox, read the static on my skin, was I brave or just quiet within? Either way, let the honest light begin. [chorus] Neon Fox, race sparks along the wire, hold my hands around this pocket sun. Say it true so nothing feeds the fire— glow, glow, keep the house unburned. Sketch the map of every choice I’ve learned; when I speak it straight, you give me back my voice. [verse] Maybe the flame was metaphor, a marriage breaking slow, or literal—spilled fuel hiding by the door. A prophecy disguised as a stain I didn’t know, a warning printed in orange on the floor. [chorus] Neon Fox, race sparks along the wire, hold my hands around this pocket sun. Say it true so nothing feeds the fire— glow, glow, keep the house unburned. Sketch the map of every choice I’ve learned; when I speak it straight, you give me back my voice. [verse] Or maybe the speck never spoke—just my mind, but isn’t every voice a current in our skulls? If a thought lights the room, is that not a sign? Neon whiskers test the voltage of my soul. [pre-chorus] Neon Fox, tilt your aurora eyes to mine; real or not, truth still draws a line— and every line becomes a lifeline. [chorus] Neon Fox, race sparks along the wire, hold my hands around this pocket sun. Say it true so nothing feeds the fire— glow, glow, keep the house unburned. Sketch the map of every choice I’ve learned; when I speak it straight, you give me back my voice. [bridge] In the dark, silhouettes bloom like radio ghosts, golden tendrils stitching past to present hosts. The Fox leaps—five bright tails, neon-sliced air, kicks up ash and doubt, leaves candor there. I hold the orb higher; the city flickers awake— every secret becomes a road I can take. [verse] Since then, every moment nudged me somewhere else, like punishment, or consequence, or plot. But the Fox says, “Paths are just the light you felt,” and the little sun answers, “You were never lost.” [chorus] Neon Fox, race sparks along the wire, hold my hands around this pocket sun. Say it true so nothing feeds the fire— glow, glow, keep the house unburned. Sketch the map of every choice I’ve learned; when I speak it straight, you give me back my voice. [outro] Two hands, one star, and a vulpine guide— amber trails threading every version of me. The house stands quiet; the night lets me decide. Neon Fox whispers: “Choose truth, and be free.”
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