Neon baptism on the boulevard, rain like sparks on chrome I crawled out of the gutter grinning, swore I’d build my home Not a nation drawn on paper—not a flag that others own But a heaven for the outcasts where the edge becomes the throne Fuel light blinking prophecy, tires humming low and mean Echos of rabbits in the median flicker in and out of the scene The blurs pass by of the unbelievable journey of where I've been They don’t run—they watch in silence, like they’ve seen it all before Guardians of the narrow line between the myth and my eternal war I used to dive for darkness just to feel the fall Like the night was my calling and I answered to it all But the voices spoke through the static—“No take backs, are you sure this is it, you wont be able to run away again.” In here is a tragedy, be it pawn or player, or an agent of chaos that's gone completely insane. Lurking on the edge of heaven wearing a demons name. I’ve crawled through trenches made of masks, I’ve drowned in mirrored sin Where every truth is twisted just to let the liars win But I carry something sharper than the systems they designed— A soldier without a country and a war beyond their minds