Lyrics

[Verse 1]
She walks like balance, talks like grace,
But every room becomes a case.
Her truths are sharp, her peace is loud,
She wears her silence like a shroud.

She names herself the sober kind,
But can’t quite touch another mind.
She says she listens, but not quite—
She dims the sun, then calls it night.

She warns of storms, then fans the flame,
She builds the gallows, shifts the blame.
She counts the years she’s done the work,
Then snarls at you with every quirk.

[Chorus]
But ask her who she’s ever heard—
Really heard, word by word.
Ask her what she’s ever seen
Beyond the box she’s called serene.
She’ll flinch and blink, and shift her tone,
And swear that she’s the only grown.

[Verse 2]
She once met a man with maps for eyes,
But she couldn’t read him through her skies.
He spoke of thought, and stars, and pain—
She turned to blame, and called it rain.

She watched him write, and build, and bleed,
But asked no questions, felt no need.
She wanted spark, but not the flame—
She wanted truth without a name.

She calls herself a lover of mind,
But flees from every unknown sign.
She praises depth, then stays skin-deep,
Then wonders why the world won’t weep.

[Bridge]
He sent her songs carved out of light,
She met them with a clenched-up fight.
He held a mirror—she saw a wall.
And when he laughed, she made him small.

She called him rude, called him wild,
Called him proud, called him a child.
But never once did she reflect
How little love she could detect.

[Verse 3]
She sees herself as high and clear,
A lighthouse with a crystal spear.
But can’t hear tone, or see the bruise—
She knows too much to ever lose.

Each friend that leaves becomes a ghost—
She says they lacked the will to grow.
Each voice that dares to sound apart
Is marked as cruel, without a heart.

Her hands are always clean and sure—
She calls it strength.
But it’s a cure
For every crack she dares not show.
For every no she can’t outgrow.

[Chorus]
But ask her once what she’s let go,
And watch her change the tale she knows.
Ask her what she’s ever learned
Without the need to be confirmed.
She’ll say she tried. She always tries.
But never once admits her lies.

[Outro]
There’s a woman wired for fire,
Calls it peace, but builds the pyre.
Says she’s love, and says she’s light—
But won’t step out into the night.

She’ll read this song, and never guess
It spoke of her—too sharp, too dressed.
She’ll skim it twice, then turn away,
And leave the truth right where it lay.