[Intro – funeral organ + single palm-muted chord hits every 8 beats] Through meat and memory I crawl Through meat and memory I crawl [Verse 1] Rusted chain wrapped round the ribs Each breath pulls teeth through lung Fourteen winters carved the same hymn Same blade, same tongue, same tongue Blood thickens in the low places Like tar in cathedral crypts Every heartbeat begs the question “Why still pump? Why still exist?” [Chorus – huge open chords, let the feedback howl] Pain – you are not my lord Pain – you are furniture Heavy, black, immovable But furniture I will sit in your shadow until the wood rots through then I rise wearing your splinters as a crown no longer new [Verse 2 – even slower, half-time feel] The body keeps score in scar tissue ledger written in keloid every morning I audit the damage every evening I refuse the void They say time heals – polite fiction Time only teaches how to limp But limping forward is still forward even when both knees are split [Chorus variation] Pain – you are not my master Pain – you are rent I paid Decades of interest Now the mortgage is razed [Bridge – clean, broken voice, single ringing chord underneath] I did not defeat you I outlived your best attempt You wanted a grave I gave you a tenant instead [Massive distorted breakdown – drop tuning, slow chugs] Every scream I swallowed became mortar Every night I begged to die became wall Every “no more” I whispered became cornerstone Build Build Build [Final chorus – layered, massive, almost triumphant in its exhaustion] Pain – you are architecture now Pain – I walk your halls Pain – your iron gates hang open Pain – I am the squatter that outlasts the walls Pain… you stay I go [Outro – feedback sustains forever, distant bell tolls, eventually just breathing over a single low open string drone] Fade into stone. Still here. Still here. (End)