Verse 1
I keep the night inside me like a secret in my chest,
It tastes like salt and silver, like the ocean at its best.
My heartbeat writes confessions on the inside of my palms,
I hold the shape of sorrow like a candle without calm.
You call it fragile—baby, watch me break the glass,
I’ve been a quiet storm for longer than you asked.
Pre-Chorus
And when the lights fall down, I gather every scar,
Hold them like constellations, wish them back into the dark.
Chorus
I’m sad, but I’m not soft — I’m the thunder under skin,
I cry like comets falling, leave a trail that hums within.
I’m broken into beauty, a bruise that glows at dusk,
I’m salt and stardust, honey, aching into trust.
I’m sad, and it’s a language that I’m learning to sing,
A dangerous, holy kind of everything.
Verse 2
There’s a photograph of laughter in a room where echoes learn,
I keep the edges b*****g where the past refuses to return.
My words are small rebellions pinned against a sky,
I shimmy out of silence, let the hollow nights reply.
You offered me an answer like a roof that never fit,
I traded it for thunder—now the thunder’s in my ribs.
Pre-Chorus
I fold the midnight into songs I never meant to write,
I’m curated chaos in a dress of wounded light.
Chorus
I’m sad, but I’m not soft — I’m the thunder under skin,
I cry like comets falling, leave a trail that hums within.
I’m broken into beauty, a bruise that glows at dusk,
I’m salt and stardust, honey, aching into trust.
I’m sad, and it’s a language that I’m learning to sing,
A dangerous, holy kind of everything.
Bridge
If sorrow were a skyline, I’d paint it gold and red,
Trace every cracked horizon where the angels fear to tread.
I’ll build a cathedral from the shards you left to rot,
Light candles with my laughter for the things you never got.
So wear your pity softly, don’t pretend to heal my wounds,
I’ll be translating heartache into new, sharper tunes.
Breakdown (spoken, then swelling)
This sadness is not empty — it’s a map with a pulse,
Every ache is a compass pointing me back to myself.
Chorus (final, bigger)
I’m sad, but I’m not soft — I’m the thunder under skin,
I cry like comets falling, leave a trail that hums within.
I’m broken into beauty, a bruise that glows at dusk,
I’m salt and stardust, honey, aching into trust.
I’m sad, and it’s a language that I’m learning to sing,
A dangerous, holy kind of everything.
Outro
So let the stars keep falling, let the salt rain down like dust,
I’ll stand in my own weather, in the ruin and the rust.
I’m sad — and in that sadness, I become what I must.