This is survival

Ash in my lungs, but I’m still breathing fire,

Chains on my wrists, feeding fuel to desire.

I’ve walked through the ruins of faith and control,

Heard the devil whisper, “You’re already whole.”

No more silence, no more bending the knee,

I carved my name in the dark so the light could see.

Heartbeats like drums in my ribcage loud,

Middle fingers up to the faceless crowd.

If this is the end, let it come tonight,

I’d rather burn out than fade from sight.

We rise, we rise—tear the sky apart,

Spit in the face of a dead-end start.

Sweat and blood in the gasoline rain,

Sing it back if you’re feeling the same.

We rise, we rise—yeah, you know the sound,

Kick the door, shake the underground.

No fear, no leash, no turning back,

This is the anthem of the cracked and unmasked.

Whoa—feel it in your bones now,

Whoa—let the ugly truth out,

Whoa—we’re alive and unholy,

Scream it till your throat bleeds slowly.

We rise, we rise from the dirt and the shame,

Set it all off like a crooked match flame.

If we go down, we go down too loud,

With broken smiles and a fist in the clouds.

We rise, we rise—say it again,

This is survival, not original sin.

Yeah—this is survival, not original sin,

I was fucked from the start, still I’m all in.

We rise from the mud with our knuckles still split,

Every “no” they threw at me—I learned how to spit.

No prayers, no peace, just a throat full of scars,

Middle finger to fate, middle name: too far.

I’m pissed, I’m alive, I’m allergic to chains,

Turn trauma to torque, let it rip through the veins.

They wanted me quiet, wanted me tame,

Now I’m yelling “WE RISE” while I light the flame.

Bled for this breath, yeah I paid my own due,

If you feel this shit hit—

Then it’s talking to you.

We rise, we rise—say it again,

No gods above, no absolving sin.

Still standing, still scarred, still screaming within,

This is survival—

Not original sin.