(Verse 1)
You carved constellations out of my backyard nights
Placed small rebellions in the corners of the light
You taught me how to breathe through thunder and applause
Left fingerprints of bravery on every broken pause
(Pre-Chorus)
I counted up the ways you raised me from the small
Turned mine into a map I could finally call
A place to stand, a place to stay, a place to rise again
(Chorus)
You were monumental — a skyline in my chest
A cathedral of small miracles dressed in sweat
You were monumental — louder than the doubt
Built me out of storms and taught me how to shout
(Verse 2)
You showed me that a scar can be an atlas, not a shame
That every time I faltered, I could still become a name
You tied the hems of courage to my ragged coat of fear
Said, “If the world will take you, take it back, my dear”
(Pre-Chorus)
I traced the route you lit through all my quiet nights
Found altars in the ashes, and windows in the fights
A place to stand, a place to stay, a place to rise again
(Chorus)
You were monumental — a skyline in my chest
A cathedral of small miracles dressed in sweat
You were monumental — louder than the doubt
Built me out of storms and taught me how to shout
(Bridge )
Not marble, not monument — not something cold and framed
You’re the small, electric heartbeat when the lights are drained
You’re the little, stubborn miracle that saved me from the tide
A living, loud, relentless, warm and terrible guide
(Breakdown (spoken or whispered over sparse piano))
You held the blueprint of a better me and never let me fold
You taught my frightened hands to carry more than they were told
(Final Chorus)
You were monumental — a skyline in my chest
A cathedral of small miracles dressed in sweat
You were monumental — louder than the doubt
Built me out of storms and taught me how to shout
(Outro (soft) )
You were monumental — and when I speak your name
The world gets slightly larger, and I’m never quite the same