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We rising from the dust in the basement corner
Every single step is a quiet warning
Dim green paint peeling on the brick wall Cold air crawling down
the narrow hallway hall Four walls closing but we standing up tall
Waiting for the signal to break through it all (break it down)
Pressure in the pipe,
steam on the glass No one in this room is living in
the past (never again)
We hit the floor,
break the frame, light the spark!
We are the heavy-footed movement in the dark! (yeah)
No looking back, we are writing the design Every single beat is
a line crossing time!
Concrete floor cold beneath the worn-out soles Gathering the fragments of our
ancient goals (we got this)
Writing out the history in permanent marker ink We don't need a
map when we stand at the brink
Corner pocket... We stay standing...