(Music starts with a low, tense electronic hum and a repeating, frantic hi-hat rhythm, mimicking a racing heart/siren.)
Verse 1 (Rap - Tense, Rushed, Jittery Flow)
Yo, the headset's on tight, the line stays live,
I'm the first, the last, the only one to give
The response unit out, even when the soul is spent,
No down time, no silence, no moment to repent.
The screen's a kaleidoscope of code and despair,
CPR starting, someone gasping for air.
"Stay on the line, sir," but the silence says more—
Miscarriage on the bathroom floor, bodies behind a closed door.
We hear the final breath, the moment they break,
Every single trauma, for the city's sake.
We're stitched into the fabric of the worst that can be,
A tape recorder catching all the misery.
I pray the units are swift, I pray they run fast,
'Cause I know the truth—that the moment has passed.
Pre-Chorus (Beat drops out, only the low electronic hum remains)
I drink the lukewarm coffee, trying to hold the light inside,
But the wire keeps humming, nowhere to hide.
Every ring is another ghost I can't outrun,
Waiting for the sun to rise, when the day is already done.
Chorus (Sung - Distorted, Heavy, Emotionally Exhausted)
(The music hits hard with a slow, grinding rhythm and a massive, echoing vocal)
> IT'S A GROWING DARKNESS, PUTTING OUT MY LIGHT!
> I SWALLOW THE CRIES, I JUST SURVIVE THE NIGHT!
> I’M THE VOICE OF SAFETY, A PROMISE I CAN’T KEEP,
> DROWNING IN SOUND, WHILE THE WHOLE WORLD SLEEPS!
> WE PRAY OUR UNITS GO FASTER THAN ANGELS FLY,
> TO MUTE THE MEMORY OF THAT ONE FINAL CRY.
> PTSD'S THE STATION, AND I CAN’T TRANSFER OUT,
> JUST TAKE THE NEXT CALL, AND QUIET THE DOUBT.
>
Verse 2 (Rap - Slower, Gut-Wrenching, Focused on the Children)
Then the call drops in, the voice is small and young,
The words catch the air, hanging heavy on my tongue.
"My mommy and daddy, they're yelling, don't leave,"
I tell them, "Stay with me, baby, you gotta believe..."
I promise them safety, a lie that feels true,
"Just stay on the line, tell me what he's gonna do."
And then the sharp static, the phone pulled away,
And the screams hit the receiver—I relive that day.
Hear the beating, the crying, the terror, the pain,
We're helpless to stop it, just catching the rain.
That's the trauma that scars, the memory that burns,
The lesson the headset tragically learns.
We hear it all, the raw cut of the knife,
The moment a child realizes they're losing their life.
Outro (Tense whisper over fading electronic hum)
Just... another ring... gotta be ready...
Gotta keep the promise... gotta be steady...
(Sound fades with a final, sharp click of a phone hanging up.)
DadCookie
