Green Paint & Boundaries

Intro Mud on my boots, city on my mind, scraping yesterday off with a plastic tine. Grass in the air, that deep-heat sting, honest smells don’t promise anything. Verse 1 I park by the fence where the shouts drift late, phone buzzing plans I can’t reschedule my fate. Sunday roast, training moved up an hour, this life’s a muscle—quiet power. Then brown paper leaning by my tire, no ribbon, no shine, just twine and wire. Wildflowers breathing summer and field, not for a headline, not to be revealed. Pre-Chorus Fear hits fast like a cold, clean cut, what starts as gentle can turn into rust. But some gestures don’t ask to be owned, they knock once, then leave you alone. Chorus Green paint walls and a reserved table, laptops hum, we’re barely visible. I set the terms, I draw the lines, you meet me there, right on time. No cars waiting, no borrowed light, we talk till four, then we say goodnight. I won’t be yours, you won’t be mine— just green paint, boundaries, and time. Verse 2 You close the laptop, don’t stand up, say my name like it’s not a cup you’re trying to drink and set back down. Charcoal sweater, no crown. I order tea, you take it black, ordinary rituals pull me back. You ask about drills, about the grind, not how it feels to be watched all the time. Pre-Chorus You translate my world into chords and breath, repetition till it sounds like truth instead. Say performance is armor you learned to wear, but it gets heavy when nobody’s there. Chorus Green paint walls and a reserved table, quiet enough to hear what’s breakable. You don’t sell me a better view, you sit with the weight you’re carrying too. I pay the bill, our fingers collide, electric like we both just lied. I won’t be yours, you won’t be mine— just green paint, boundaries, and time. [Instrumental] Bridge I want you in the worst, clean way, and I hate that truth for what it might say. Desire’s a crack in a disciplined frame, guilt walks in wearing my name. You don’t push, you don’t chase, you say you’ll wait for my better phrase. Not the world’s, not the noise— mine. Chorus Green paint walls, the bell on the door, 2:58 turning into more. No flashbulbs, no borrowed shine, just a line in the sand that I drew in time. If this breaks me, it’s by my design, I step forward but I don’t resign. I won’t be yours, you won’t be mine— just green paint, boundaries, and time. Outro You fade into the crowd like you know how to do, I stand there feeling something new. Not a promise, not a crime— just the thrill of choosing, one careful time.