[Pre-Intro – Whispered callback, tape hiss] “The fire didn’t break me… it turned me.” (Footsteps echo. Low crowd murmur like an arena before lights.) ⸻ [Intro – Piano + Organ, slow breath] (Batiste-style piano plays minor chords that lean toward major. Banner-style 808 rumbles under like distant thunder.) Yeah… I spent too long watchin’ faith like it was a performance. Judgin’ effort. Clockin’ pace. Scorin’ devotion. But salvation don’t happen in the seats. So today— I step in. (Snare taps like a heartbeat.) ⸻ [Verse 1] 🎶 I ain’t speakin’ from the bleachers no more, No safe opinions with my soul kept sure. I used to spectate truth, analyze grace, Call it wisdom when I stayed in place. But comfort cost me more than pain ever did, ‘Cause not movin’ forward still teaches you sin. I seen fire shape me, bend me, refine me, Now the flame say, “Walk—don’t just remind me.” I got dirt on my knees, doubt in my chest, Still turn my face where the Light do the rest. I ain’t fast, I ain’t clean, I ain’t polished steel, But my direction honest—and my faith real. 🎶 ⸻ [Hook – Choir + Lead Vocal] 🎶 I’m in the arena— bruised but believin’, Heart still beatin’— though my steps ain’t clean. God don’t time speed, He measure the lean in— Direction first… He handle the rest. 🎶 (Choir echoes: “Direction… direction…”) ⸻ [Verse 2] 🎶 I know I’ma miss it, I know I’ma fall, But I’d rather fall forward than not move at all. Repentance ain’t pretty—it’s sweat and regret, It’s lookin’ at habits I ain’t killed yet. I chose covenant over comfort and pride, Even when my old self begged me to hide. The accuser loud, got a seat in the stands, Pointin’ every flaw like he runnin’ the plan. But God ain’t askin’ if my pace impress, He askin’ who I face when I’m under stress. And every time I stumble, scrape faith on the floor, I still land closer than I was before. 🎶 ⸻ [Hook – Choir fuller, drums heavier] 🎶 I’m in the arena— scars in my story, Still face-set Heaven— though I limp when I move. He don’t reward speed, He respond to orientation— Turn toward Him… and He pull you through. 🎶 ⸻ [Bridge – French Tenor (Operatic), strings swell] 🎶 Je marche vers le Christ, même quand je tombe, (I walk toward Christ, even when I fall,) Mon pas est faible, mais mon cœur se tourne. (My steps are weak, but my heart turns.) Je ne recule pas, je choisis la foi, (I do not retreat, I choose faith,) La grâce m’appelle—et je dis “voilà.” (Grace calls me—and I say “here I am.”) 🎶 (Brass answers the tenor like a cathedral echo.) ⸻ [Verse 3 – Gritty prayer-rap, DMX-style intensity] 🎶 Look— I ain’t claim perfection, I claim pursuit, I ain’t sprintin’, but I ain’t runnin’ from truth. My progress uneven, my flesh still loud, But my soul stay bowed, and my knees hit ground. If I err, I err reachin’ upward, Not driftin’ away actin’ spiritually smarter. I ain’t the critic, I ain’t the comparer, I’m the man in the dust with a clenched-up prayer. So let ‘em mock pace,

IN THE ARENA (DIRECTION FIRST)