[Intro – Crowd murmur, scattered boos, piano stab] “Look at him…” “Thought he changed.” “Still strugglin’, huh?” (Beat drops—hard.) Funny how the loudest voices ain’t never in the fight. ⸻ [Verse 1] 🎶 They always talk from a safer seat, Clean hands, loud mouths, still judge my feet. Count my steps, clock my pace, Like they got a heaven-issued measuring tape. They say, “If you was real, you’d be further by now,” But they don’t know the weight of the vow I vowed. They ain’t see the nights I turned back again, Ain’t feel the dust when repentance kicked in. They love outcomes, hate the grind, Love the fruit, mock the vine. But I learned real quick who get it wrong— The bleachers always full of the confident and the calm. 🎶 ⸻ [Hook – Choir aggressive, call-and-response] 🎶 That’s the accuser in the bleachers, yellin’ from afar, Never bled for truth, still callin’ out my scars. But I ain’t movin’ for their applause or cheers— I’m answerin’ Christ, not the voices I hear. 🎶 (Choir shouts: “Stay in the fight!”) ⸻ [Verse 2] 🎶 Some of them voices live inside my head, Old shame talkin’ like it know what God said. “Again? Really? You still there?” Tryna make me quit by pretendin’ to care. But I checked the source—ain’t divine, God don’t heckle, He correct with time. Conviction point me forward, shame pull me back, One say “come home,” the other say “collapse.” I ain’t confused no more who speakin’ peace, One voice heal, the other feast on defeat. And if I gotta choose who I let define— I’m pickin’ the One who stepped in time. 🎶 ⸻ [Hook – Choir fuller, drums heavier] 🎶 That’s the accuser in the bleachers, loud but removed, Talkin’ ‘bout failure while I still choose. I don’t bow to mockery, doubt, or fear— I stay in the arena, Christ meet me here. 🎶 ⸻ [Bridge – French Tenor, sharp and declarative] 🎶 Ils crient de loin, sans porter la croix, (They shout from afar, without bearing the cross,) Ils jugent mes pas, mais ne marchent pas. (They judge my steps, but do not walk.) La honte accuse, mais le Christ appelle, (Shame accuses, but Christ calls,) Je reste dans l’arène—fidèle. (I remain in the arena—faithful.) 🎶 (Brass hits like doors slamming shut.) ⸻ [Verse 3 – Raw prayer-rap, armored resolve] 🎶 Look— If you ain’t bleedin’, you ain’t qualifyin’ to judge. If you ain’t repentin’, you ain’t speakin’ for love. I don’t need commentary from a comfort zone, I need correction from the One who call me home. I done fell, yeah, but I didn’t fold, Didn’t sell my soul just to look controlled. I kept turnin’, kept answerin’ calls, While they stayed seated critiquin’ my falls. So say what you want—I know where I stand, Knees dusty, heart aligned, covenant brand. Let ‘em yell till they lose they breath— I’m in the arena, walkin’ toward life, not death. 🎶 ⸻ [Final Hook – Choir + Brass, triumphant restraint] 🎶 That’s the accuser in the bleachers, shoutin’ in vain, But mercy speak louder every time I change. I don’t move by noise, I mo

THE ACCUSER IN THE BLEACHERS