[Verse 1]
The asphalt was a hot, black ocean we waded through barefoot,
Our heels calloused by the friction of an endless July.
I remember the taste of water from a rubber garden hose,
Metallic and cold
like drinking from the center of a star.
We were invincible in our stained t-shirts and scraped knees,
Holding our breath under the streetlights
Just to see if the world would stop if we did.
I didn't know I was a king in a kingdom of discarded things;
I was too busy looking at the horizon to see the crown
Constructed from the very dirt beneath my fingernails.
[Verse 2]
There is a specific cruelty in the way a memory stays sharp
While the hands that made it turn brittle and thin.
I found a receipt in an old coat
from a lunch I can't recall,
A mundane tally of bread and salt
a Tuesday afternoon.
And I wept for the person who paid that bill,
Who sat in that chair
wearing a skin they hadn't learned to fear
I spent a lifetime waiting for a thunderclap,
For a sign that I had finally arrived at the "real" part,
Only to realize the "real" part was the way the floor felt
When I was six years old and convinced I could fly.
[Chorus]
It is a brutal kind of love, this late-night epiphany,
To fall for a world that is already turning its back.
I am enamored with the hum of the refrigerator,
With the way the dust dances in a shaft of dying light.
I was lucky in a way that should be a crime—
To have had all that time and treated it like a burden.
I’m a millionaire of sighs and heavy, quiet breaths,
Trading my pride for the chance to just watch the clock.
The masterpiece wasn't the destination;
It was the way the gravel sounded under my feet
Before I started counting the miles.
[Verse 3]
I remember the smell of a heavy rain on a hot sidewalk,
The way the steam rose up like the earth was breathing out.
We used to race our shadows until they got too long to catch,
Convinced that the sun was a spotlight meant only for us.
I’d give every trophy I ever won just to feel that specific itch
Of grass against my shins on a Saturday that never ended.
Now I sit in the silence and I’m dating the world again,
Taking it out for coffee and noticing the cracks in the cup
As if they were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
[Bridge]
The irony is a jagged pill that I’m finally learning to swallow:
That I only learned to see once my vision started to blur.
I’m in love with the sound of a distant car door slamming,
With the way the mail slot clatters when the news arrives.
I’m a spectator now, cheering for the most basic things—
The way the ink smears, the way the chair creaks,
The way the air feels when it knows it’s about to get cold.
I was a titan, I was a giant, I was a god in a playground,
And my only regret is that I didn't stay small
For just one minute longer.
[Outro]
The credits are rolling in the reflection of the window pane,
And for the first time, I’m not trying to look past myself.
I’m looking at the wrinkles
like they’re a map of a victory lap. (mmm)
