Lyrics

I don’t need a script to follow,
Or silence dressed as grace,
I need voices that are honest,
And a wild, breathing space.
Not just deadlines on the table,
But a fire we both defend,
This isn’t just a project—
It’s a path we choose, not pretend.
So meet me in the space between the lines,
Where the truth hums low and the heart defines.
No masks, no roles, just real design—
If we build this, build it right.
Not just the book, but the way we write.
Not just the work, but the way we fight—
For the space between the lines.
Don’t ask me who we are,
If you’ve already made up your mind.
If your yes is dressed in maybe,
I’ll be gone before you find—
That I don’t beg for presence,
I don’t barter to be seen,
I bring all of me or nothing,
And I want you to mean what you mean.
So meet me in the space between the lines,
Where the truth hums low and the heart defines.
No masks, no roles, just real design—
If we build this, build it right.
Not just the book, but the way we write.
Not just the work, but the way we fight—
For the space between the lines.
Creativity needs oxygen, not rules.
It’s not a pitch, or just a set of tools.
It’s human, messy, raw and true,
And I won’t shrink to comfort you.
So if we write, let’s write with fire—
With courage, care, and no empire.
Not just pages, but a pulse that shines—
In the space between the lines.
Yeah, in the space between… the lines.