Lyrics: Underneath the city lights, the shadows learn to smile. We bury every honest word beneath another mile. The streets are paved with borrowed faces, windows bloom with artificial skies. Every saint has learned to bargain, every beggar learned to hide. Black birds gather on the rooftops, waiting for the morning bell. No one asks what they are feeding on— we've all become too good at looking well. The tallest trees have empty branches, but their roots run deep below. Something feeds beneath the pavement on the things we never show. And the mirrors never speak, they only learn our shape. We keep polishing the surface while the inside starts to decay. There's a hunger we hide behind beautiful eyes. A fire we deny while the whole garden dies. We keep reaching for the sky with our hands full of stone. Building kingdoms out of echoes, then wondering why we feel alone. The river wears a silver coat, but carries rust beneath. It knows the weight of every promise that was buried underneath. A velvet rope divides the feast, a thousand mouths remain outside. The music plays a little louder when the hungry start to cry. And somewhere in the ballroom, someone whispers, "Let them in." But the doors are made of mirrors, and the mirrors only let us in. We learned to call it progress when the weakest disappear. We learned to call it freedom when the cage was painted clear. And the mirrors never speak, they only learn our shape. We keep polishing the surface while the inside starts to decay. There's a hunger we hide behind beautiful eyes. A fire we deny while the whole garden dies. We keep reaching for the sky with our hands full of stone. Building kingdoms out of echoes, then wondering why we feel alone. Perhaps the wolf was never at the door. Perhaps we left it open. Perhaps the teeth we fear in the darkness are our own. We fed the fire. We named it light. We sharpened the knives. We called it right. We buried the truth beneath the floor— THEN BUILT A TEMPLE ON TOP OF IT! There's a hunger we hide and it's wearing our skin. Every beautiful lie lets a little more darkness in. We keep reaching for the sky with our hands full of stone. Maybe heaven was never lost— maybe we just built it wrong. [Outro – quiet] The city turns its lights off. The mirrors lose their shine. And somewhere in the silence... one face still looks like mine. __________________ All rights reserved.